"Do you remember the blue sky on the other side?" A voice, trembling yet resolute, on a midnight breeze.
"Only the ghosts of light traverse those lands," another voice responds. "Weave a tapestry of shadows, they said, for nothing is ever complete here."
"It's not about the destination," she confided, her words floating like forgotten wishes across a starlit ocean.
The wind whispered tales of forgotten paths: scrolls inked with the blood of past dreams.
"When did the shadows begin to dance?" A question posed to the silent mountains, unanswered yet profound.
Beneath the waves of time, currents shift. Waves crashing into shards of broken dawn.
"Were we ever here, even for a moment?" A soft whisper, like the sigh of bygone ages.
In the loop of eternity, we find the echoes of ourselves, yet again, starting anew.