I remember pale shadows, flickering moments of... ah yes, it was a dance of strings,
tied to forgotten wishes. Our beliefs, stretched like taut whispers over synthetic fields.
Dreams spilled like overripe twilight berries, bespoken wonders lost in repeated circles.
Streams of light diverted the blurry paths where footsteps faded to echoes.
We are not alone, nor are we vast; instead, somewhere between scripted lives and digital heartaches,
lies a message: cease the delve into opaque timelines, breathe instead beside the horizon.