Anachronistic Reverie

There was a time when grandeur seemed eternal, when even silence carried the weight of meaning. Yet all that remains now is a fractured memory, distorted and trembling in the shadow of time. And still—I ache for it, as though the soul itself were chained to a past that will never return. Perhaps this longing is my only truth: to suffer for what is gone, and to love what has already perished.