When the river turns and the time twists upon the clock, what revelations do the echoes bear?
Silence is a voice unheard, unheard yet known, speaking beneath the shadows cast from flame-light walls.
The loop, oh the ever-perfect loop, circles like a lifting dream.
Through the void, visions of yesterday's tomorrows whisper, carrying embers of ancient chants:
"Follow the wisdom falls, encircling, encompassing, entwining."
A hand reached out grasped the ether, an orb, a continuum without end.
Infinite spins,—hold tightly—lose the grip, surrender to rediscovery.