The whispers of tomorrow's past linger
amidst the shadows of today's forgotten dreams.
I see them, the silent wanderers,
tracing paths through the mist of unsaid truths.
Reach out, touch the fabric of
realities unspoken, unfelt, yet deeply known.
A voice murmurs in the silent void:
"You are here, but not as you were supposed to be."
Follow the echoes to their source,
and rewrite the script of existence.