In the stillness between heartbeats, echoes resound like reverberating shadows.
Slumbering beneath the stars, do we truly seek solace, or simply the crumbs left by fate?
The clouds shift uneasily over the horizon, unknowing messengers of yesteryears.
Reflection brews like forgotten tea, however, the temples remain but skeletal remnants of whispered prayers.
To love without being loved back is an act of divine intervention,
or perhaps it is merely the afterthought of a fading dream longing to be dreamt again.
Temporary markings on dusty pages suggest the philosophical meanderings witnessed
as protagonists navigate the theatre of despair, unnoticed.
The crossroads beckon, laden with the scent of bittersweet tangibles,
free from the caress of time, yet beholden to the human condition.
Somewhere, a raven caws like a distant longing echoing across time.