The Girl Who Outlived Gold

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The Girl Who Outlived Gold

I was not born of sunlight,
I am a remnant of it,
a flicker kept alive
in the corners of old mosaics.

Centuries lean toward me,
calling my name
through chipped gold
and tired constellations.

My hair remembers
winds that no longer blow,
my skin remembers
hands long turned to dust.

Look into my eyes,
you will see the colour
of a dawn that never fully arrived,
the ache of beauty
that refuses to fade.

I am the girl
who outlived gold,
wandering through time
like a soft unfinished prayer.

And still the world breathes
as if I belong to it,
as if I have not already
become its dream.