Once upon a time, in a round world, circles went round and round,
Gentle whispers began to sound. Circle, circle, round and found.
They spun like stars in playful dress, fleeting dreams in endless guess.
Echoes in the echoes, silent yet so loud, nothing truly new, nothing quite allowed.
Dance around the circles, see them glide, in a broken record tide.
Repeat, return, repeat again.
Silence in noise, and I wonder when?
Another circle waits; see it spin, see it begin.