Spinning, spinning, the clock never hesitates. Each tick a moment lost in the abyss, each tock a door opening in the unseen. Shadows dance an erratic ballet upon the walls, as the hands of fate sweep over the universe.
In distant lands, a child counts stars, unaware of their falling, while a soldier dreams of brass gates and forgotten rivers. Time breathes heavily, wrapping each story in strands of unyielding silk. Rhythmically relentless, it marches.
Would you follow, O seeker of paths, or stand frozen in the moments that cascade like fleeting grains of sand? The infinity whispers, echoes of a serene chaos, commanding yet alluring.
Memory — a curious creature. It nests within the crevices of forgotten landscapes, murmuring promises of yesterdays that never were.