In the garden of ephemeral whispers,
the seed of silence awaits the storm.
Underneath the lunar symphony,
shadows weave tales of forgotten dawns.
Time, an endless serpent,
devours its own tail in the tapestry of galaxies.
What begins must return,
as the violet flame fades to the void once more.
Consider the pebble upon the mountain,
resting in the embrace of eternity's flow.
A drop of dew on its surface,
mirrors the universe and its unfathomable journey.
Will you wander the paths of light,
or succumb to the shadows calling?
Each choice a thread in the infinite loom,
each path echoing the song of cycles.