In the twilight, where shadows hum softly, the echoes* of forgotten songs linger. They drift on winds, weaving through the cracks of memory, unraveling tales untold.
A melody lost in the rustling of leaves — the soft murmur of ancient voices calling from the beyond, bathing the soul in a luster of yesteryears' dreams. Follow where echoes wander, joining their fleeting dance.
Scenes flicker in the mind, cobwebs of sound-touched reveries. The caress of oceanic breaths, the streaks of color through a fogged morning, all imprinting a tapestry of untraceable sounds.
Beyond this page, futility resides as another echo. Yet within those moments is found solace — fragments like dew, shimmering briefly in the quiet dawn. An eternal symphony, playing on cosmic strings. Listen: Hear.