Beneath the surface, silent currents weave tales. Echoes of forgotten paths touch the skin
of those who dare to listen. Lifted by transparent dreams, bubbles rise—a symphony of time's gentle grasp.
Phantom legs in the echo manifest; soft impressions left behind on a world not seen,
their touch a breeze of memories unclaimed—faint voices call from the shadowy deep:
"Do you remember, do you believe?"