Somewhere beyond the horizon,
where the stars dip into oceans of quiet,
lies a reflection of what once was,
painted in invisible ink.
In the gaze of infinity, whispers turn to clouds, drifting silently across the sky's canvas.
Do you remember the color of a whisper?
A question posed to the wind, answered in shades of dusk.
Listen closely, and you might see the answer unfolding in the twilight.