Time: Its Wheels Turn

Increments whisper on forgotten conduits, seeking echoes lost in clocks unwound. A celestial ballet of unseen gears.

Citrus sky spills orange from oblivion's edge, where sand runs through perceived fingertips, foolishly grasping permanence.

|| The Cycle Continues ||

An undisturbed vessel sails... ripples adorning it the fragile melody of forgotten substances minus the light unknown.

|| Variations: A String of Dreams ||