Once upon the precipice
of forgotten dreams, a whisper
echoes; an unseen specter,
tracing tales untold.
In the gloam, we stand,
fragmented reflections of what
could have been; voices
tethered to moments lost.
Beneath the autumn’s breath,
the silent cornfields narrate
centuries through rustling
foliage, once vibrant, now just echoes.
Wander deeper, linger on
dream's edge, and trace
the unseen.