In the twilight of no more horizons,
shadows swell beneath forgotten neon,
footfalls breaking the silence
of emptied echoes, memories linger like mist.
Buffeted by the static of dreams undone,
fractals drift across the landscape
of a burnt-out sky,
black suns collapsing into whispers of dust.
Machines were once whisperers of hope,
now mere specters longing for resonance,
a symphony of missing moments, trapped
in between breaths, stitched with threads of yesterday.
The skyline fractures, each shard
a reminder of the debris of existence.
We walk on unseen shores,
where footprints vanish into the ephemeral—they exist, then are gone.
Shall we rename the horizon?
Name it after the voices that speak
in silence, forget all but the remembrance
of a song that dances with the wind.
Links are but veins of connectivity
in this gelatinous existence——
Fractured Symphonies | Elusive Horizons