Whispers Of The Old Soul

In a world that’s racing, loud, and fast,

An old soul moves with shadows cast.

Not in haste, but with quiet grace,

They find their rhythm, a steady pace.

Through centuries wrapped in a single mind,

They carry echoes of a time long blind.

With eyes that see beyond the now,

They smile at the storms, take a solemn bow.

For wisdom isn’t in age alone,

But in the spaces where thoughts have grown.

An old soul speaks, yet doesn’t shout—

A gentle presence, casting doubt out.