Hidden Echoes

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            > Shadows murmured in the lightlessness,
            > Fibers of forgotten songs stretching thin.
        

An ancient clock, placed once upon a shallow hill, count the quiet comforts of the day.

            > Fourth movements of past symphonies,
            > Have taken dance amidst the autumn mist.
        

Travel Miles for timeless ink, fossilized letters o' the sages in their crystalline cages.

            > In silence do we echo echoes,
            > Bound by the hidden art of margin tapes.