We travel not because we seek new vistas,
but because we seek another horizon's end.
An echo of tomorrow whispers through the labyrinth of fading stars.
She once left footprints on the cloud-draped shores of Nowhere.
Defying the coil of temporal loops, she whispered "I have been here before."
In the murmurs of destiny's web, time was less a line—
more a circular dance of constellations in flux,
their melody an unseen symphony cascading through epochs.
A traveler paused at the ancient clock tower, unraveled
the years tangled within its mossy gears.
He walked backward into the morning light, untainted by yesterday's shadows.
Where do echoes go when their voices tire?
Perhaps they float to the edges of forgotten realms,
merging with voids and the gentle silence of endless skies.
Continents will shift, seas will dry,
yet the pulse of these figments remains unfazed.
Paths will emerge from time, revealing hidden destinies.
Explore the veracity:
Unseen Truths
Hidden Echoes
Whispers into Now