In the mirror of moments unheld, they waltz, unseen but felt, the echoes. Surreptitious slips in time, unveiling the tapestry you almost wove but simply watch unravel.

Yesterday’s shadow lingers, caressing quiet corners with fingertips of mistaken memory. Are you not here, usurped by a presence that knows the lines we never wrote?

Your voice answers the void's breath in elegies unwritten, a symphony of whispers. Strands of fate woven in silk paralysis, moths whispering to the forgotten moon.

A clock without hands ticks in tandem to this flight of fancies—the world spins on, a carousel at rest, captured in the nostalgia of a tomorrow that was always today.

Walk Softly Among Echoes Step Lightly on Shifting Paths