The Realm of Lost Socks

In a dim light flickering like an uncertain moth,
our story whispers amiss.
One man, a mere silhouette, wanders tirelessly amidst mismatched shadows,
A kingdom of threads, unraveling.

The wanderer stumbles over whispered remnants of old:
A sock untwists into the cosmos, echoing soft regrets.
Paths Unfollowing
Whispers of Wool

Silent scenes flickered through the Kaleidoscope of Things Lost:
Socks dance with shadows of their missing kin,
The legends of the silent realm they wove, hauntingly eternal.