As the clouds drift lazily, shaping ephemeral moments, a whisper of memory dances just beyond grasp —
like smoke curling from the embers of yesterday's fire, words dissolve into the ether, yet linger with a haunting resonance.
Upon the sea of the mind, thoughts are pebbles, each splash a ripple in the pond of consciousness.
What did the stars whisper last night? A secret perhaps, lost to the winds and found only in fleeting dreams.
murmurs of forgotten corridors