In the quiet before dawn on an alien shore, footsteps echo in verse, scripting lines in the sand, only to be erased by azure fingers, water's embrace.
Shadows of stars passed long overhead, weaving stories only half-told, swirling in the eddies of wind. Who walks these paths, unseen, carrying the weight of silenced songs?
Beyond the horizon, where light dances, lies the map of forgotten echoes. Step lightly, for each grain tells a tale of what once was, or never was.