The Last Lantern small It’s a moment suspended in

It’s a moment suspended in time

Original structure remains readable beneath the change

their petals soft as whispers

She wipes her hand on her trousers and leaves the chain unfastened

it reminds you of the strength in stillness and the magic in the flow of time

The Last Lantern small It’s a moment suspended inShe slips past the last lantern before it can claim her. The path is still behind her neat, expected, watched. Ahead, the trees close in, leaves catching what little light the moon is willing to give. It doesnt matter. She knows this way. Or maybe the way knows her. Branches tug lightly at her as she moves, not enough to stop her, just enough to notice. The air smells sharp and green, alive in a way the open paths never are. Somewhere deeper in the