In the quiet echo of dawn’s soft fingers,
thoughts suspended in amber slip through the seams
like whispers stranded on the swirling edge of stillness.
Here lie the vestiges of dreams,
half-formed wishes unfurling silently,
and in every shimmering thought, a flickering spark.
Consider the lanterns, begotten from the void,
casting shadows that hum with ancient tales—
twilight fables of the forgotten and unbeheld,
each flicker a pulse, a narrow moment captured,
showcasing the beauty in the spaces between.
In this alcove, where the silver gleam beckons,
journeys entwine like tendrils of smoke dancing
to the silent symphony of distant stars.
Each step unraveled swells the universe,
feeding the tempest of existence,
and we bask in the glow of what could be.
Drifting further, let dreams carry you—
across the fields of the unspoken dialect,
where echoes entwine with the silver sheen.