They fold, don't they? The restless avenues of mind unravel, string by string, until— is it a pattern? Echoing labyrinthine circles, kaleidoscopes of thought pierce the dusk, whispering secrets we dared to forget. Flickering memories, on this broken screen, beyond the reach of warmth, where the sun never quite lands.

Wires crossed, signals lost in translation— hello, goodbye, somewhere in between. Time, an always absent friend, reaches out with invisible hands, unwrapping moments they say, they signal, the stars—they wink and unwind too.

Pieces of Time wandering through corridors—their echo, their story, never simply told.

Beyond, below, through the thin veneer of understanding: the silent resonance, Interference of quiet thoughts, the hum of eternity in a whispered dream.