The Unseen Path

Footsteps echo.

Words drift past like autumn leaves.

Once, there was a door here.

Winds whisper forgotten names.

The path folds in on itself, a dream of a dream.

Here lies the silence of countless untold stories.

A map with no lines, only shadows.

In the margins, a single star drawn in blue ink.

scribble, scribble...

...thoughts, misplaced.

a line, a maze, a pause.

Murmurs of Echo

Whispers of Trace