In the whispered corners, their echoes gather

--- Signals, depths unfolding.

The siren's call, unanswered, unwound,

--- like sand through fingers, slivers of sky.

You stand at the threshold, in twilight's embrace,

--- labyrinth laid before you, stitched in silence.

Embers dance on the edges of a tale untold,

Portents in whispers, heralds of night.

The same notes replay, a memory unwinding itself,

--- like old vinyl, punctured grooves sing of yawning futures.

You listen.

The grains of time, like flickering stars,

--- unsettle the sky, rerouted realities.

But realize — there is no South—you are drawn to the North.