Whispering through the veil,
a child's laughter from another plane.
Gather, gather, fragmented moments,
stitched not by seam, but by silent screams.

The clock is a fickle god,
bending to no will, no whispered secret.
Shadows between shadows,
where footsteps echo in the silence.

Thoughts converge, diverge,
touching the untouchable with unseen hands.
A network of dreamers,
each pulse a star in a forgotten sky.

Eternity is a canvas,
painted with colors of absence and presence.
Open your mind,
and let the echoes sing.