>>18968236Salt fell softly from the winter sky,
Like whispered tears that never ask why.
Soot stained the rooftops, darkened the moon,
While midnight hummed its forgotten tune.
Salt on the table, soot on the wall,
Two quiet witnesses watching it all.
One speaks of oceans, the other of flame,
Both leave their mark, yet neither their name.
And somewhere between what is lost and what’s true,
A quote rests quietly, waiting for you:
"Even ashes remember the fire,
And even the sea preserves its desire."
So let salt be the sorrow, let soot be the past,
And let words be the things that forever last.