In the caverns of unnoticed whispers, echoes meander with shadows of unspoken thoughts, tracing arcs in the air. The wind carries what the lips dare not.
Lines of luminescent fog bend over the hills of silence, where every utterance leaves a fleeting mark upon the void.
Who listens to the cries of dreams forgotten? In the hush of midnight, when stars lean close to hear the ripples of time, the echo sings a song of endless beginnings.
Look beyond the horizon of what is known, where echoes form trails of silvered sound, guiding the lost to places unexplored.