The clock's whisper lulled me to places untold. The shadows weave silently, a reminder that not all who wander are lost.

In the fabric of night, threads of truth lay hidden. Echoes of forgotten words cling to the seams, A tapestry of reflections, as the stars sigh.

Listen, and you might hear their stories. Patterns repeat, yet each stitch is unique. The night speaks in riddles, waiting to be deciphered.