On the forgetting breeze

Can you remember  

who you really are  

when shadows lengthen  

and stars spark afar,  

in twilight's soft embrace?

Days before, or after,  

the clock's unceasing spin,  

when laughter echoed  

and dreams were pinned  

on moments soon to fade.

Time strips them away,  

like leaves in autumn's hand,  

each second a whisper,  

each hour a grain of sand,  

falling through the glass.

Minute by minute,  

the past becomes a haze,  

familiar faces blur,  

like ghosts in a maze,  

fading in the mist.

Memories now dust,  

just floating away,  

on the forgetting breeze,  

in the quiet sway,  

of life's ephemeral dance.