Erstwhile
While the sun was still overhead, we would remember the good times we had. We used to remember those old days when we lived in the cold halls of this old castle where we took shelter. While our children were running and having fun in the breeze of the valley, it was not dark yet. Time was in the palm of our hand as the ancient radiances blessed us. Those who remember those days were the prominent elders of our society. As our story was gradually forgotten, there was not much left of us. That's how we were once, time cleared everything, we became selfish and we lost our sanctity. Now we are people waiting to be forgotten stories.
