Forgotten Access

Scrolling through emails, a ghost drifts in sight,

a password emerges, from the shadows of night.

Wrapped in nostalgia, it whispers my name,

a key to forgotten accounts, lost in the game.

The memory lingers, like dust in the air,

holding pieces of moments, the warmth, and the flare.

But the doors now lie shut, and the echoes are faint,

just a password now, a digital saint.

Fingers hover, hesitant, over the keys,

a ghostly reminder, of what used to be.

And though the account's gone, that line still remains,

a key to my past, where hope still retains.