Somewhere, between the echoes of dawn's first light and the silent embrace of an endless night, the mist stirred...

The whispers cocooning thoughts of a traveler unbound, tracing footsteps in invisible paths, a treadbare map rustling like leaves in an unwritten story.

Do you see the whispers? do you hear the light?

Awake, yet not quite awake; dreams bleed into reality, or was it... reality slipping away like sands trapped between fingers?

The secret is in the touch, or perhaps, the echoes echoing over vacant waters...

Flashes of the forgotten dragonfly dances, wings alight with borrowed sunbeams, tracing circles of forgotten lands.

A journey taken on days left unsaid, however spoken, under the watchful gaze of celestials whose names are mere shadows in the ancient tongue.

And as footsteps blend into the mist, the world breathes a breath made of soft intentions and lingering sighs.

Do you feel the shadows? do you taste the dawn?