In the fading light, echoes linger beneath the silence. Time slips through fingers stretched in yearning.
Stars speak, yet their tongue is fire, heat fading in the dark mist empty of hearing. Between their whispers, secrets.
Do you hear the songs held in veils, softly kissing the surface of scattered dreams? Or does the universe echo alone in an unbroken symphony of void?
Each step reveals another horizon beyond grasp but beneath foot. Trace the pattern, born of wandering, ever refrain.