Between The Strata

The quiet here is etched in time, a desert breeze's moan.
Each turning page, a tendril finds a path I've never known.
Beneath the sun-drenched window sill, where light begins to fade,
A patina of fine dust settles, on promises unmade.

[Chorus]
These margins hold the strata deep, an ancient echo calls.
A hand unseen, a whisper kept, within these silent walls.
Across the lines, a ghost of thought, a truth that time unveils.
A hidden spring in arid lands, through all the turning trails.

[Verse 2]
A faded script, a hurried line, a question left in ink.
A conversation across time, just at the bedrock's brink.
I trace the words, a faint mirage, a thought that’s left untold,
A distant mountain range of truth, for me now to unfold.

[Chorus]
These margins hold the strata deep, an ancient echo calls.
A hand unseen, a whisper kept, within these silent walls.
Across the lines, a ghost of thought, a truth that time unveils.
A hidden spring in arid lands, through all the turning trails.

[Bridge]
The quiet processes of change, a gentle erosion's art,
These fossilized memories, etched deep within my heart.
Like distant mountains hold a secret, I feel their quiet plea,
A sacred resonance in dust, connecting them to me.

[Outro]
This silent language, soft and slow, a story starts to form.
Across the strata, I now know, I'm sheltered from the storm.