Echo Well

Somewhere, beneath the rustling murmurs of the dreaming waters,
lies an echo well, deep and endless,
caressing the fringes of twilight thoughts,
extending hands made of mist and moonlight.

In muted shadows, the silken weave of forgotten words unspools,
chapters lost in spiral dances,
inked in the twilight's breath,
yearning to awaken from their silent chrysalis.

An unnamed traveler stands poised at the cusp,
pool of truth reflecting voids and wonders,
where each ripple is a story _almost_ told,
waiting for the winds to whisper.

Will their voice rise above the stillness,
merging with the lilacs perched on brave whims,
singing eternities entwined in nocturnal pulse?

seekers/
rivers/
untitled_conversations.html

wanderers/
heartbeats/
inked_silhouettes.html

dissipate/
forever_breathed/
whispers_in_mirror.html

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