In the heart of twilight, a solitary echo sighs, bore from a whisper, stitched in shadows.
Stars hang like questions on an unthreaded string; the night, a silent partner in this voiceless dialogue.
Each note, a vagrant thought, wanders through the canyon of unspoken dreams, seeking to bind forgotten melodies.
When autumn winds dance upon silver grasses, they twine around echoes left to linger in quiet rooms.
In that drone, lone yet multi-faceted, lies the resonance of yesterday's unsaid truths, cradled in time's soft palm.
Ever seeking the symphony of souls: unheard harmonies fade in the folds.
Where does this lone echo wander? Through lush fields, whispering secrets to sighing leaves.
The cycle continues, as does the dance of celestial threads weaving silent narratives.