Melodies of Yesterday

30 Dec 2025

In wooden rooms the record plays, a silver hum that softly sways,
It threads the dusk with golden thread, and wakes the ghosts that time had shed.

A lullaby of fading light, it holds the edges of the night,
Each note a lantern, small and bright, that guides the heart back to its right.

We chase the echo, footsteps slow, where memories and music go,
In every chorus, soft and clear, the past returns and draws us near.