Somewhere, in the corners of whispered winds and forgotten paths, songs linger. They float like leaves, caught in autumn's chaotic ballet, seeking solace in a world where melody met meaning, yet never quite found home.
There's a tune I once heard, woven through the chatter of evening trains. It spoke of journeys never taken, and the rhythms of everyday life, harmonizing with dissonance. A melody that felt familiar, like the face of an old friend seen in dreams.
The branches of these lost songs spread like ancient oaks, roots deep in memory, where echoes of laughter and tears intertwine. They call to those who remember, beckoning gently, asking if we dare walk beneath their shade once more.
Here, on this path, you might find other echoes: Familiar Whispers, Untold Story, Discordant Tune.