In the cycles of creation, where whispers coalesce into echoes...

The wind speaks in concentric circles,
tracing the inky spirals of dusk.

Shadows dance to rhythms unheard,
sculpting silence with hands of whispers.

Listen, the clock unwinds its melody,
in soliloquies of forgotten pages.


Let the cycle sing, let the cycle dream...
Whisper of Stars Symphony of the Void Ink to Echo