Alone in the vastness, I am born from a whisper of wind, collecting, merging with others until the softness of clouds caresses my form.
The fall calls to me, a siren song of gravity and purpose. In every descent, the ground's embrace promises stories untold, of roots entwined and asphalt worn smooth by time.

I travel through veins unseen, a journey etched in whispers. Do you hear the echoes of my descent, the murmurs of earth and sky entwined? Link to Symphony

Each impact a memory, a ripple lost in the whispers of the universe. Yet, every drop makes a choice, where to linger, where to merge into the endless cycle. An empty promise of tomorrow, isn't it?

I ponder this as I slip through fingers of ancient trees, woven into stories of days past. Do you feel the weight of your own descent into the unknown? The echoes of regret are heavy, you know.