In the corridors of yesterday, whispers of tomorrow linger,
tracing the ethereal dance of forgotten moments.
Here, a clock ticks in reverse, shedding seconds like autumn leaves,
each one a memory, crisp, dissolved in the universe's breath.
Once more, we tread the paths not taken,
where shadows of choices ripple beneath the surface smooth, yet veiled.
Time, a painter with a brush of chaos,
etches reflections on the canvas of never-was.
Through these remnants, a story unwritten beckons,
its chorus interwoven with the sighs of ages past.