Ghost Echoes

In the silent corridors of time's worn clock, whispers weave. Forgotten notes echo through the chambers of stillness, waltzing with shadows that remember not the touch of light or warmth.

Here lies the remnants of dreams, wrapped in gossamer veils that ripple with every breath of the moon. Can you hear them? They sing like the rustling leaves on a mournful night, a lullaby for the lost rhymes of when the stars weep.

These are the hourglass's tears—particles of eternity scattered across the fabric of now. Invisible threads connect the fragments of yesterday's forgotten symphony, leading the curious to a place where silence speaks louder than words.
Read the signs in the wind's embrace, for they may guide you where mere echoes dare not whisper.