In this nightscape where shadows whisper of lost dreams,
Gridlines of memory ripple against the fabric of silence.
Your breath, an invisible current, passes through
each spectral echo wrapped in vaporous creation.
The lamplight flickers in uncertain texts:
“Borrowed stars,” you call to the wind —
they reply with laughter, spiraling into shadows.
Among the starlings in rapture and disdain,
the visage of the forgotten converse on the edge of resonance.
Where is the pulse of tomorrows unclaimed?
Traces linger beneath dreams held hostage.
Links to other tunes hidden in the fog’s embrace:
the rhythm falters like a forgotten drum —
murmurs of the mist twist like dreams that defy endings.
A collective breath holds perceivable threads:
they flutter against lips that have forgotten sounds.
Reach out — the stories ripple through unchained thoughts.
Every note, every lost whisper, pirouettes through time.