A stroll on the terrace as the day grows dim,
Crows convene in a twilight hymn.
Bats emerge with silent grace,
Performing their rites in the open space.
Lazy feet that skip the street,
Find in rooftops a quiet retreat.
Paperflowers sway in pink and white,
Basking in the fading light.
A place to pause, to look within,
To trace where thoughts and dreams have been.
For though we chase who we hope to be,
Life molds us with quiet unpredictability.
Above the noise, above the race,
The terrace holds a healing space.
No grand escape, no grander scheme
Just peace, perspective, and a drifting dream.