The stars whispered a tale forgotten,
As quills danced upon parchment like water in the rain,
Ghosts of words form swirls, ethereal spirals,
Ink creates constellations where voices converge beneath silence.
Vague fragments found on the clock's fracture,
Expectation seeping between layers of time—
Lifted thoughts ebb like tide, drifting through deep crevices,
What lingers becomes a memory; what spills becomes lore.