Echoes from the Edge of Oblivion

The edge of oblivion is not a place, but a profound silence where echoes linger longer than words ever can. It is where time folds into itself, and the remnants of forgotten things whisper to one another in the dim light.

When contemplating the echoes from such a precipice, one must they pass through layers of memory, each with its own story, each yearning for acknowledgment. The echoes carry tales of worlds imagined, of dreams brushed aside by the winds of inevitability.