Somewhere in the folds of time, the same tale begins again,
a sigh, a whisper, a fleeting dance in the dust of forgotten eras.
Shadows of footsteps trace paths in the ether,
where echoes weave verses in a tapestry unbroken.
Once more, through misty veils, we hear the song of yesterday,
a melody lost yet forever lingering in the corridors of memory.
The records spin, the needle finds solace in the grooves,
melodies trapped in loops, haunting, sweet.
Each cycle a moment, each moment a lifetime,
etched in echoes, preserved in silence,
an aria of shadow and light, dancing on the edge of dreams.