Solitary droplets, carving paths
Through corridors of thought,
Whispering in forgotten tongues,
Where the silent speak not of silence,
But of the chaos beyond heard
By mere echoes.

Fragmented harmonies in streams,
A symbiosis of silent chaos,
Tidal murmurs of introspection,
Waters once spoken
Now dreaming, perhaps,
Of liquid universes untamed.

And within the silence,
A running thought dies, lives,
Only to whisper to the rooted stones,
Understand they, in quietude,
What voices dipped in noise
Cannot fathom in lessened depth.