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Time An Illusion
In the sleep of time the moon drifts
Among dreams growing in dark whispers.

Strange visions carve their pale forms,
A world of shadows born from the abyss.

Under starlight, the clock spins fast,
Marking the flickering heartbeats of existence.

Memory floats on a river of mirrors,
Reflecting fragments of forgotten stories.

I chase the elusive specter of tomorrow,
Endlessly dancing on the edge of my vision.

Within the depths of lost time's embrace,
Whispers of forgotten love softly echo.

Illusions of minutes stretch into centuries,
A labyrinth of moments, forever interwoven.

Reality trembles like a fragile mirror,
As dreams weave their intricate designs.

The past rushes toward us in a shimmering blur,
Decaying, reforming, collapsing into itself.

We exist caught between two eternities,
Neither past nor future, but timeless fragments.

Within the silence, secrets slowly unravel,
Revealing the mysteries of forgotten truths.

The illusion of time unravels its seams,
A tapestry of moments, woven and unseen.

In the twilight of existence, as shadows fade,
We are but transient whispers, lost in the void.

© 𝓡.𝓕𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝓟𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓵