Beyond the walls, where whispers sleep,
Lies a tapestry woven from the threads of silence,
Each echo a lingering thought, a dream yet to awaken,
In the heart of the unseen.
Shadows dance to a melody unheard,
The rhythm of breath, the pulse of the void,
In this garden of quiet, the lotus blooms,
An unspoken hymn in the cradle of stars.
"There are places where silence echoes," she said,
"Where the walls listen more than they tell,
A silent witness to the stories we forget,
Yet live by, in the hidden alcoves of time."
Beneath the canopy of sky and dreams,
Lies the echo of beginnings, soft and tender,
A cycle of silences, of words unspoken,
Woven into the fabric of the night.
Whispers of the Soft Breath
Forgotten Voices
Journey Through the Quiet