In the halcyon of the whispering dunes, time swirls in cycles not of clocks but of forgotten dreams, echoed by the moon draped in shadows and misty silvers crying quiet sorrows. Does nobody see, or is it the seeing that blinds?

I roam these shimmering landscapes like a leaf tossed in tempestuous seas, yearning for a grasp on reality now so elusive it's become another phantom of the past. Each step an unanswered question, each pause a revived query, as the undulating sands tell tales of what once was...or perhaps, what never was.

Shadows grow longer; yet, they shelter in the daylight between dreams and awakenings... the river sings blue songs with green echoes, carrying the weight of silver whispers through forgotten canyons washing away regrets into the abyss.

Oh eternal questions wrapped in riddle's embrace, are you the souls themselves or reflections of the reflections in the eyes of passing strangers along this road?