The muse sat, as rigid as forgotten dreams, in a room where echoes shape mundane whispers into axioms of absence. Here, silence’s fingers brush against unwavering canvases, unraveling muted symphonies of chromatic disparities.

Enter the shadows

As artists ponder upon the veil of starlit uncertainties, the muse’s grandiosity dilutes into mere fragments—a quotient of grandeur intangible, ecstatic, and arranged in infinite dimensions.

The aether tryst