In the silent murmur of the morning mist,
a bridge of whispers stretches across the abyss.

Time unwinds like ancient vines,
wrapping secrets around the trunks of forgotten trees.

Every heartbeat resonates, echoes forming patterns,
on the tapestry of dreams woven in starlight.

Voices call from distant shores,
reflections in the water, echoforms of the past.

Listen closely to the dance of shadows,
where echoes breathe and forms become.