Time has erased his footprints,
his footsteps lost in yesterday.
The wind carried away their stones,
silent witnesses of a dawn.
The rain made the river grow,
a flow of memories in its path.
The dreams sailing, want to return
to the shore where they used to dream.
A thousand flowers have been sprouting,
painting the withered path with life,
Time, implacable, has made its journey,
the traces are hidden under the gray veil.
Although the path has been erased,
we shall be the echo, the song, the beat.
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From @asielda