In a realm where shadows whisper secrets,
fragments of thought fall like raindrops,
each one a world of dream-paint.
The fabric of night weaves stories beneath eyelids,
twilight fantasies converge,
spiraling, looping, forgotten yet felt.
Was that a song of the stars?
Or merely the sigh of forgotten memories?
Dance with the relics of estranged yesterdays;
page 67, paragraph three—
where reality waltzes with figments.
Click to unveil the whispers of the past,
or surrender to the remnants of shimmering time.
Insignificant and profound, I pause beside
the tides of shifting dreams,
each ripple a revelation denied,
like ships lost in ethereal sepulchers.