The night, a canvas of whispers, paints
flicker harmonies across the silent skin.
Shadows weave tales in the darkened nooks,
their voices blend like forgotten hymns.
Listen close, as the walls murmur secrets
echoes of reflections, lost in between.
Step lightly, for the moon casts patience,
and stars hum tunes of ancient dreams.
In this quiet realm, the heartbeats synchronize
with the soft pulse of the forgotten night,
each flicker a note, each shadow a song
composed by the silence, orchestrated by time.
Perhaps you wander as the shadows do,
seeking paths where light falters and fades.
Perhaps you are the whisper, the flicker,
the harmony that time forgot to silence.