Evariste

In the realm where thoughts entwine, a word escapes: elusive, shy,
Lethologica’s crafty play, beneath the vast, unending sky.
In the silence of the mind, where whispered secrets lie,
A missing word, a puzzle piece, just out of reach, though I try.

Through corridors of memory, I chase this fleeting sprite,
A ghost of a word, just on the tongue, hidden from plain sight.
Lethologica’s gentle tease, in the mind’s soft light,
Leaves a trace of wonder in the quiet of the night.