Upon the gray horizon,
footsteps dance
on the forgotten sands
of time's embrace.
Do you hear
the stars whisper?
They sing
in a tongue
only shadows understand.
Here lies the echo, the solitude—
a reverberation,
an endless hymn
of cosmic sighs,
laying dormant in
the spaces
between breaths.
And where seas touch incense skies,
we are but echoes,
footsteps in the quiet,
tracing rhythms stitched
into this alien fabric.