In the quiet embrace of dusk, shadows weave tales untold.
Light dances, fleeing the grasp of invisible hands.
Each season breathes a mystery, idling between moments.
Do you hear the echoes?
The sun draws lines across empty paths.
Leaves fall, reluctant, yet graceful, into the embrace of winter's womb.
In solitude, a question hovers, waiting for the whisper of an answer.