In the shadows where echoes linger,
the embodiment of forgotten whispers.
Reality bends, fractures like glass.
Looping, looping, the record spins;
a song of phantoms, a dance of shades.
Listen closely, but never too close.
"Did you hear it?" she asks,
but the question never fades,
always the same, always the same.
An answer lies beyond the veil,
masked in twilight, shrouded in mist.