Hues of a Lost Sunset

The sky dyes itself with fleeting dreams,
hues of orange and pink the wind carries away,
remains of a sunset now far off,
like secrets whispered among silent clouds.
The shadows lengthen, caresses of memory,
painting illusions between dream and reality,
a painting that time, sculptor of dreams, carves,
before darkness wraps everything in its embrace.
Faded colors, almost wanting to hold the day,
every shade a hidden desire,
scraps of light that slip through the fingers,
leaving an imprint of nostalgia in the heart.
And while the sky fades into an infinite twilight,
remain the dreams painted by a lost sunset,
ghosts of light that the wind cannot capture,
in the silence that sings of moments never returned.