Return

The clock ticks in a rhythm familiar and unscripted. Return when the sun sets, but find the sun never moves. Return when the waves kiss the shore, yet the horizon holds steady in a distant dream. Return to the place where it began, unravel, rewind. Return to the voice echoing softly against time. Over and over—over and over—steady, endless.

Beyond the gateway lies a road of returns. It's worn by countless footsteps, yet feels like new. A place where past and future collide with every step taken backward, stolen forward. Return to the whispers in the hallway and the breeze that knew your name. Endless roads where no track vanishes.

You move, you wait, and in waiting, find movement of a different kind, Where is here? When is never? Return to before when before is ahead, Passed thresholds, forgotten origins replay on screens unchanged. Over and over—over and over—every road circles back eventually.