Subtle Echo

In the silence, they lie dormant - whispers frozen in amber. Unearthed on quiet afternoons, laying bare the essence of what once was: a tapestry of unnoticed musings, draped across epochs unseen.

The soft echo of a watchful gaze, the gentle caress of evening shadows. Time fabricates fossils of our thoughts, encasing them in layers of solitude. Each layer, a symphony composed of silence and the soft rustle of memory.

There is solace in the profound stillness. In the rhythmic dance of unspoken eulogies, of gentle lamentation for thoughts that fade into the corners of existence.

And as the clay hardens around these vulnerable layers, they wait - witnesses to the passage of time, hushed in their vigil.