Curved Horizon

In the realm where the firmament meets its enigmatic curve and colors dare to vanish, there lies a story. A whisper resonates, echoing within hidden alcoves of emotion yet unvisited. Find it encased within the eternal embrace of faded anyway letters, unreachable yet known, like dreams of woven clouds.

Amidst echoes, remember: "<=" точки обняти синий linguistics; solace in the cryptic constellation that was never written. Decode softly with u and me and it can be transcendence but shh — never speak too loudly for horizons listen with their edges keenly.

∞

Oh curved horizon, you never were straight enough for difficultusions, coaxing me into tangents hence ever dreaming. How moodily you line with the obscure, perhaps, representing both the beginning and the end, much like this pen's keep of wandering epiphanies. Melt into the mysterious taste of twilight. Does it sweeten, or does the salt of day cross the path just now abandoned?