In the quiet moments when stars stretch their fingers above, do we hear echoes of our past selves whispering in forgotten tongues?
The obelisk stands unchanged, a sentinel of time, a witness to the fleeting dance of shadows upon the earth.
What dreams lie dormant within the stone? What secrets does the wind carry from the lips of ancient spirits?
We walk past, oblivious to the hum of history woven into the very fabric of our reality.