A glass sits, clarity blurred by mist,
Voices dance, harsh and soft in the air,
Like a promise unspoken, it twists,
In silence, I listen, yet unaware.
The invitation rests, unsent, untouched,
Words collide, a cacophony of dreams,
Through the fog, intentions are clutched,
In quiet corners, nothing's as it seems.
Each word a whisper, each pause a scream,
The glass holds secrets, cold and wet,
Promises float like a drifting dream,
In the stillness, there's no regret.
Breaths mix with frost, a silent decree,
Not every vow finds its way to the light,
In the echoes, I find what’s meant to be,
Some promises are best left out of sight.