The echoes fade, dampened by the weight of silence,
each syllable an artifact of shadow, lingering, haunting.
They tremble upon the brink of understanding,
whispers cast in ink—unreadable,
a language of the unseen,
dissolving in the reverberations of an empty room.
Do we decode the sound, the glyphs, the breaths between?
Look— the hidden paths.
Listen— the silent echoes.
Feel— the haunting dreams.