Whispered winds speak in circles,
a tapestry woven by unseen hands.
Kindled dreams flicker without flame,
echoing in the empty chalice of night.
Are we but shadows in borrowed time,
footprints on a path of starlit sand?
Every step a note in a silent song,
harmonies lost in the labyrinth's embrace.
Once more, the clock ticks backwards,
unraveling the threads of yesterday.
Laughter dances in raindrop prisms,
cascading down the veil of dawn.