In days when shadows dance in fleeting light,
the echoes of wandering paths sing softly
through labyrinthine corridors of thought.
These reflections weave melodies, played in reverse,
unraveling the silk threads of past and future intertwined.
Is there solace in retracing steps,
listening to the whispers of yesterdays yet to be?
Time sculpts the walls with memories unsung,
while moments, like grains of sand, slip
through fingers grasping for permanence.