In the echo, a secret sigh drifts worlds apart, wrapped in the echo of time's persistent clock.
The clouds above chant silent hymns, while river stones concede their eons to the unsuspecting tide.
Whispers of the aurora gently unravel, grasping ghosts, seeking solace beneath the sapphire veil.
Grains of sand weave tales unbroken by the hollow corridors of dreams.
When the brass sun descends, will you follow into the transient embrace of a chiaroscuro night?
To wander is but to know, the circulatory whispers of a universe in constant repose.