Morning breaks without a color Old echoes stain the air Fragments hum beneath the surface A storm still waiting there Silence pulls every loud noise We lose control of time Past returns like rainfall Too soft to fight, too real Streets unfold like shifting paintings Their faces blur and sway But one forgotten image rises A night that won’t decay Silence pulls every loud noise We lose control of time Past returns like rainfall, ah Too soft to fight, too real Daylight calls from distant edges Yet time distorts the seam Old hands rearrange the silence And spill into the dream It lingers like a shadow It whispers through the dawn A thread that keeps unweaving A ghost not fully gone