Fading Frames

Gazing upon yesteryears in faded frames,
When innocence seemed eternal, untouched by worldly claims.
A peculiar sensation arises within, as I behold,
An image of myself, devoid of crimson lines, untold.

In that captured moment, a whisper of the past,
A version of myself, untouched by shadows cast.
No scars to trace the pain, no marks to define,
A glimpse of who I was, in a different time.

Oh, how time has woven its intricate design,
Etching stories on our hearts, with each passing line.
But in these faded frames, a glimpse of what could be,
A reminder of the beauty in embracing vulnerability.