Beyond the fade of whispered echoes,
lies a realm where tales run untold,
weaving through ...
Written on the skin of longing,
etched by the currents of dreams unvoiced,
they linger, like shadows of souls unbound,
calling from voids deep and unfathomed.
In corridors of hearts unwarmed,
silence swells with the weight of unsaid,
as stardust cradles the slumbering words,
whispering, whispering endlessly.
Yet amidst these words, an invisible thread,
draws convergences where dichotomy breaks,
in the breath of forgotten realms,
where only the moon dares to ...
Do you hear them, those muted calls?
From beyond, where silence is a symphony,
a testament to what could have been,
in the conduits, the whispers weave their magic,
binding us, binding us in the unseen.