VIP Photography

The city begins to fade and the horizon takes over.
Thoughts drift like the tide.
Light, unhurried, and just for a moment, clear.

In shadow’s embrace, where light seldom treads,
Two sentinels rise from their earthen beds.
Pale guardians with caps like lunar crowns,
Where silence reigns and darkness drowns.

Nestled in the narrow throat of stone,
These fragile prophets stand, not alone.
Autumn’s remnants scatter at their feet,
Where time and dampness silently meet.

From darkness, delicate life insists to bloom,
These ghostly children of the hidden room.
Fleeting yet defiant in their quiet glow,
Nature’s whisper where few dare to go.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
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