Upon the azure waves where whispers dwell,
A solitary traveler, weary and worn,
Did cast his gaze upon an isle unshorn,
A realm where dreams and shadows weave their spell.
With every breath, the salty air did swell,
As he approached the shore, forlorn, forlorn,
The golden sands, like memories, were torn,
And echoed tales of those who dared to quell.
He wandered forth through groves where silence lay,
Amidst the trees that bowed with ages’ weight,
Each rustling leaf a fragment of decay,
Yet beauty lingered, wrapped in fate’s cruel fate.
At dusk, a figure danced upon the shore,
A maiden fair, with hair like spun gold light,
Her laughter rang, a melody of lore,
A haunting sound that pierced the veil of night.
“O traveler, dost thou seek what lies within,
The heart of dreams, where illusions take their flight?
Come hither, let us cast away our sin,
And revel in this ephemeral delight.”
Her voice, a siren’s call, did pierce his soul,
He, captivated, lost in her embrace,
With every word, she spun a world whole,
Where time stood still, and joy adorned each space.
They danced beneath the stars, a cosmic waltz,
With every step, the shadows intertwined,
Yet in his heart, a whisper, soft and false,
A flickering flame of doubt that he confined.
“Dear maiden, dost thou dwell in dreams alone?
What lies beyond this isle of thy bewitch?
If I should leave, shall I return, or moan,
In memory of this night, a fleeting glitch?”
She smiled, a glimmer veiled in twilight’s haze,
“Fear not, sweet traveler, for dreams are but,
A glimpse of what we wish, a gilded maze,
Yet every dream must fade, as daylight struts.”
The dawn approached, and with it, shadows grew,
The colors of the morn did steal her glow,
With heavy heart, he sensed a truth anew,
For dreams, like tides, must ebb; they cannot flow.
“Alas, my heart, I cannot bear this pain,
To leave thee stranded on this shore divine,
Yet fate is cruel, and life a fleeting gain,
I must return, though thou art now entwined.”
With tearful eyes, she reached to hold his face,
“Remember me, as I shall remember thee,
In dreams, in whispers of this sacred place,
For love, though brief, can set the spirit free.”
He turned to go, the isle a fading dream,
Yet in his heart, a phantom’s grip did cling,
The sun ascended, casting light’s cruel beam,
And with it, all the joy that she did bring.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks to endless years,
Yet still he felt her presence by his side,
In every shadow danced her laughter’s cheers,
In every dawn, her love he could not hide.
But time, relentless, wore upon his soul,
And memories, like grains of sand, did fall,
The isle, a specter, now a distant goal,
A haunting echo of a silenced call.
And thus, he roamed through life, a ghostly shade,
A wanderer lost in an unyielding night,
For all he sought, in love’s sweet masquerade,
Was but an echo of a fleeting light.
At last, he stood upon the shore once more,
The waves whispered secrets of the past,
Yet in his heart, a void—a hollow core,
For love once found, in dreams, could never last.
And as the sun dipped low beneath the sea,
He knew that all he cherished could not stay,
The isle of illusions, where they once were free,
Had faded into night, and slipped away.
With heavy heart, he cast his gaze to sky,
The stars, like tears, adorned the velvet dark,
And in that moment, he could only sigh,
For love, though brief, had left its timeless mark.
Thus ends the tale of dreams, of love, of woe,
Of a traveler borne by fate’s cruel jest,
In the isle of illusions, where shadows glow,
He found a fleeting joy, and lost his rest.
