In the dimness of forgotten shores,
where whispers of time linger
like echoes in a midnight dream,
a mirror breaks upon the sea.
The glass shows not the here,
but the missed dance of the constellations.
Remember how the ancients sang
to the river's ever-flowing course,
binding sorrows to the currents,
joys lost in the moonlight's embrace?
Such tales ripple,
in the embrace of the winds.