Once, amidst the labyrinth of thought,
a voice, no louder than a sigh,
challenged the silence of the stars.
It spoke of time, not as a line,
but as circles waltzing in twilight.
Do you remember the clock that ticked backwards?
Its rhythm danced to the enigma of light,
where photons lingered, lost in their embrace.
Each pulse, a story unvoiced,
echoes of quantum tides gently borne away.
On the shores of reality, sand whispered secrets,
telling tales of the forgotten seas;
tides woven with the fabric of dreams.
A peculiar resonance, like a memory half-formed,
shivered through the cosmos.
The echo-sphere expanded,
capturing transient moments,
convertible into shimmering prisms,
bouncing off the unseen walls of time.
A resonance, once potent, now merely a ripple.