In the gardens of whispered winds,
où clocks dance without arms,
dream the echoes of silence,
where unheard melodies unfurl à la moonrise.
A canopy of thought lies intertwined,
splayed like a testament of forgotten songs.
listen, do you not hear the shadows? -
singing amidst the rustling leaves
soft, swan-like in their unseen elegance.
Pluck the stars from light’s hiding place,
conjure symphonies from unraveling dreams.
Here, nothing exists beyond imagination's maze,
and everything sings beyond the melody's edge.
A wandering voice treads softly in the dusk.
Navigate in the folds where time sleeps,
caressed by the velvet hands of yesterdays,
performing symphonies without note,
resting upon eternity’s whispers, forever fresh.