The clockwork of dreams no longer winds under the sun's dusty gaze,
where time splits like quantum particles,
singing in the whisper of forgotten algorithms.
Here lies excavation, not of bones, but of thoughts fossilized,
trapped in amber-like equations.
What do you hear when you listen to silence?
An echo of another universe, perhaps.
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Etheric reeds sway gently beneath waves of thought,
collecting dew of existential dilemmas.
The sands of yesterdays dance in cosmic flux,
weaving patterns of lost dreams once spoken,
their voices like rusted marionettes,
forever reaching for strings held by an unseen hand.
Contemplate