Whispers of the Past
In the quiet moments when dusk embraces the day, echoes of forgotten words linger in the air. These are but whispers, fading like the last light of the setting sun, yet their presence is profound. They weave through the mind like shadows in a moonlit garden, touching on the edges of dreams half-remembered.
Time, a relentless river, carves its path through the landscape of our thoughts. In its wake, it leaves behind silent echoes—fragments of conversations held with ourselves, reflections in puddles of consciousness left by the falling rain.
The Silent Echoes...
...that resonate through the corridors of our memories, where whispers become louder in the stillness.