Whispers of Testimony

"In this vault of night," he murmured, "shadows carve stories upon our skin, though we remain blind to their truth."

I looked into her eyes, but they were windowless skies, forever sealed against the dawn.

"Here, time's footsteps echo in reverse," whispered the wind, carrying the cry of faded eons.

The clock twisted, every fleeting second an upside-down eternity.