The Fisherman's Song at Dusk

The red spider lilies blooming on the other shore, lost to time; the warm curves of sunlight dancing on a summer morning; the lingering fragrance of distant dreams, extinguished between our fingers. In the threshold of a youth ravaged by recklessness, they all finally faded into a faint sigh at the corner of our lips. They were the scenes that once existed along the paths of our memories, but were destined to disappear.