We used to dream in technicolor, Bright hues of what might be, Now our memories are sepia, Faded snapshots of you and me.

Once, your touch was all I needed, A warm embrace, a steady hand, Now, it’s like a distant vision, A faded castle in the sand.

Conversations that once flowed, Like rivers deep and wide, Are now but trickles, barely noticed, As we drift apart, untied.

Yet even as the colors fade, And the photographs grow old, I find a strength within the shadows, A story waiting to be told.