The years pass by like a single breath;
sometimes it was too little, at other times, it was enough.
We collect scars on our skin and lines upon our faces—
they tell our stories in the soft light of evening.
There were tears we buried deep within our pillows,
and laughter that echoed through the old, narrow streets.
Nothing lasts forever—that is what we have learned,
even when happiness seems to drift miles away.
