Where droplets dance upon the surface, colors ripple into sound. You stand at the brink, poised above the concave horizon, waiting for the silenced symphony to awaken within the curved sky.
The sun hums a tune of absent threads,
weaving mists from what was once solid—
listen, child, to the echo of your fingertips,
tracing unseen paths
through the ever-flowing labyrinth
In corners, shadows sigh stories untold,
you wander, footsteps lost in liquid song,
where melodies dry as dew beneath a vanishing moon.
Seek solace behind the arching whispers,
find doors locked with invisible keys,
venture into rooms painted with silence,
forever entwined in maze without end.
Allow yourself to be drawn towards echoes of infinity or perhaps the quiet beacons in twilight.