In whispers of twilight, it was said that the stars bled silence—
A cacophony of muted echoes rippling across the velvet void.
Reflections fractured in the sea of a thousand eyes,
Flickering on screens that forgot the language of light.
A figure stood adrift, amidst oceans of memory,
Their shadow scribed in hues of dusk and shadowed charcoal.
Whispers carried on forlorn winds, tales told by ancient windscreens,
Of places never seen and paths walked in dreams.
Enter the corridors: Where echoes gather
Traverse the waters: What sings beneath
Fade into the horizon: Along the fringes