In the vault of shadow, where silence forgets its name,
A dirge of echoing silence sings the unspoken tale.
Brass horns of despair, leather wings of sorrow;
An orchestra of solitude plays in the heart's hollow.
Spiraling whispers, a ghostly refrain—
The echoes breathlessly scatter, like dew upon autumn’s bane.
A tapestry woven from dusk and decay,
Threads of moonlight in a celestial array.