In the hush of the ephemeral dawn, steps forward were laid upon the sands
weaving whispers of forgotten echoes, delineating paths woven with dreams.

Directions muddled, though the map is etched in memory's crease;
a silent guide rests in the heartbeat of looming questions.

An illusion, where reality crumbles like autumn leaves underfoot, whispers:
"What is ahead, when past and future dance in a timeless trance?"