The Forgotten Path

The road winds,

covered in soft moss and forgotten dust,

its edges lost to the world

but still there,

waiting.



Tall trees stretch above,

their branches tangled like old conversations

that no one remembers.

The wind moves quietly between them,

as if it, too, is afraid to speak.



Footprints are fading,

one by one,

but the path remains,

not asking for anyone to follow,

just existing

as it always has.



Somewhere deep in the silence,

a bird calls out,

but the echo is slow,

like a memory that takes time to find.



It’s easy to forget

that this road was once someone’s journey,

but for now,

it waits patiently,

holding onto the stories

of those who walked before.