in the labyrinth
of crumbling grids,
energies lost and found,
fragments weave stories beneath the skin.

Are the reflections ours,
woven into this spectral web?
Echoes ask in whispered tones.

The particles dance in shadows,
veiled whispers of the ever-fading past.
Graphs etched in amber trace forgotten paths,
mapping out the expansion of cosmic sighs.
Follow the threads to realize:
mirrors exist beyond sight.
Each reflection carries a voice:
"Crossroads, each a fork in the unknown; do they speak to us, these lost travelers?"
Their stories thread through time's tapestry,
pulled taut by unseen hands guiding destiny.