Octo-Symphonies

In the stillness of twilight, whispers meander through gardens of fractured dreams.

Among the coral of forgotten thoughts, we dance to melodies trapped in glass bottles.

Floating piquant sounds like autumn leaves, they slip through fingers grasping the echo of yesterday.

Yet the octaves intertwine, stitching together frayed ends of nostalgia, marooned on distant shores.

Listen, where harmonies paint sepia tones on our minds, reimagining the corridors of time.