In a realm where the wind whispers secrets of the unseen,
I found a trace of dreams, suspended like dew on cobwebs.
The echoes called my name, softly, gently, a forgotten melody.

Words slip through the fingers, sands of time,
forming shapes in the murmur, outlines of truths untold.
Do you hear it? The hum of existence harmonizing
with the silence of stars that stand guard over eternity?

Shadows dance on the edge of reality, inviting,
their silhouettes speaking in a language
written in the ink of night.

Follow the mist, the horizon is endless,
like the pages of a book unwritten,
waiting for the breath of the cosmos
to weave its story on the fabric of now.