In the shadowy recesses of the mind, a tune haunts—a lullaby of shattered promises and sunken ships. Faint and flickering like distant stars, they sing of golden fields where footsteps echo into eternity. The chorus loops, a spectral tether, entangling and unraveling the threads of time, singing in forgotten tongues. Were they once angels or mere echoes of dreams never dreamt?
The melody weaves through the streets, cobbled with the history of untold stories—brick by brick a symphony arises, layers of rust and rain. A solitary guitar strums a dissonant harmony at dusk, while ghosts of the past sway in rhythm, twirling under an unseen moon, a dance known only to their kind.
Beneath the pale light, a figure emerges, silhouette against the backdrop of a forgotten sky. It whispers secrets to the wind, confessions of a heart that beats in sync with the universe's own. Her voice, a cascade of stars falling into wells of stillness, echoes long after she’s gone—a tether to the cosmos, to worlds unseen, to the space between spaces.
And the song persists... a refrain echoed in the silence of empty rooms, in the laughter of children that never were, in the rustling of leaves in forests that hold time still. Eternally sung, never ending, never begun.
Somewhere in the periphery, a door creaks—leading to realms buried in the annals of time, beyond echoes and into the song's embrace. Will you step through? Will you remember? Or will you simply listen, adrift in a sea of echoes?