Among layers of dust and years untouched,
Old photographs lay, their edges curled.
They whisper tales in black and white,
Moments frozen, yet somehow unfurled.
In the silence, they converse—
Faces of those long gone speak,
Eyes that once saw sunrises now unseen,
Lives lived loudly, now quiet, now meek.
These captured whispers of a time that danced away,
Hold echoes of laughter, shadows of tears,
In their stillness, a vivid recount of the past,
A bridge across the chasms of years.