As the grains whisper beneath cosmic winds,
the echoes of a land bound by histories unknown,
stretch infinitely, imprinting tales on empty foreheads.
Reflection in sand, illusion in water.

Beneath the desert's serene skin, lies ticking moments entwined in ages—
their cries unheard, hushed by sand's eternal embrace.
Yet beneath even deeper truths, looms the question:
who writes the history when there are no witnesses?