Why do steps echo in silence, calling without a voice, narrating tales to shadows, weaving through alleys overgrown with lost syllables?
Shimmering under nebulous decrees, transient wanderers amplify whispers in vainglory —
render the heralds' shims in echoes of unreturned embraces.
We ponder where the tapestry turns unsewn, unraveling mysteries held only by ephemeral gazes.