Eternal Murmurs

In the dim corridors of the forgotten ages,
a symphony plays, carried on the winds
of a time not remembered but
gently mourned. Here, whispers breathe.

The castles of ice and despair rise
upon the remnants of dreams
long buried beneath
the rivers of silence.

Once, she sang—a song devoid of sound,
nestled in shadows where
no light dared to wander, melding,
ever fading into the dusk.

"The clocks do not tick here," she murmured,
tracing invisible patterns upon the air,
"they simply mark the passing of all that is,
and all that was never meant to be."

Memories misplaced,
a child's laughter intermingles
with echoes of a battle
fought in oblivion's embrace.

Forward to the Looming Shadow Return to The Silent Trail Recall the Echo of the Vow