in the swell of forgotten possibilities,
tides breathe in cycles,
each inhale a star blinking into existence,
each exhale a thought slipping through the mesh of time.

I hover, an observer,
waiting beneath the clockwork waves,
suspended in the lattice of destiny unfolding into realms unknown,
where every ripple repeats a tale of the ancient cosmos regretfully recurring.

silence speaks
drowning the echoes of what if, in cacophonic drifts,
while the astral tapestry penned with siren quills
stitches light years into longing threads,
waiting for an answer woven in loops.