Across the room, in unlit shadows,
whispers trickle like the dew,
forging constellations unseen,
upon the canvases of night.
The echoes of untold tales,
linger in the silken air,
weaving through the threads of time,
with every heartbeat's tether.
Shall we chase these spectral streams,
with lanterns of forgotten dreams?
For within the whispers' hymn,
lies the map to worlds beyond our sight.
Bind ourselves to this resonance,
where truth quivers on the edge,
and whispers' mellifluous waltz
guides us through eternity's whispering archive.