The Echo of the Whisper

Breathless notes scattered across silent spaces
where shadows curtsy to the fragrant moonlight.
The echo calls softly, tantalizing undercurrent,
weaving closely around the vulnerable heart.

Would you find
The mist-laden bridge stretching over
turbulent autumn skies?
Where whispers slip through cracks,
And lilies wear whispers like spectral crowns.

A touch unseen, an embrace of words unspoken,
linger here where stars forget their constellations.
Time forever loops, unwinding and rewinding,
under the echo’s lullaby, so dangerously harmonious.

Enter the Whispering Grove
Float in the Nebula's Dream