In echoes’ span, wisdom retreats; imbued with the paradox of decisions anew, thoughts arise as shadows whisper.
Consider the silence in the chime's refrain — do riddles not dwell beneath the surface of certainty?
Each moment slithers into the void, a fluid ballet of forgotten harmonies tugging at the seams of night.
Fractals of our existence mirror the cosmos; who holds the keys to unlock what lies within the depths?
What destiny intertwines the threads of time, and does not the fleeting glimmer speak of something more?