In a room with no echoes,
where silence sculpts the air,
the walls whisper secrets
in shadows that dance
upon the flicker of candlelight.
Dimensions fold in upon themselves,
a tapestry woven of dreams and echoes,
where reality bends like light
through a prism, leaving arcs
of paradox in its wake.
Do you hear the music
of invisible orbs floating?
The symphony of unspoken words
in the breaths
of stars that never were.
Stand still, and the world turns,
unraveling in threads
of silver and gold,
painted with the brushstrokes
of time that never touched
the clockâs face.