In the garden of silence, the furies dance,
Leaves stitching melodies upon the skin of night.
Shadows breathe rhythm in patterns unseen,
While laughter weaves an unbroken refrain.
Do you hear the echo of a time untold?
Where every step sang a secret song to the stars.
Whispers in the dark, a choir of echoes,
Harmonies laid bare, beyond the reach of dreams.
The breeze, a humble minstrel, carries tales
Of past notes gestured by fingers of time.
Fragments of symphonies never composed,
Singing loudly in their quiet obscurity.