The Unuttered Spheres

In the whispering shadows beneath the surface of awareness, a tale unfolds. Unknown names echo through veins, sentences unfinished, caught in the cusp of realization and seek beyond walls of mystery.

The Quiet Departure

She sat in the dim glimmer of a low sun, the shadows vibrant yet calm, a premonition flickering like waves unlapped upon dark iron shores. Her reflection loomed not in mirrors but in the hollow air, suspended between who we are, and who we wish to pretend.

Between the Echoes

The spiral of thoughts obliterate into nothingness, a mound of lives not lived. Dreams questioned dare breathe a sigh of truth into bottomless airs. What presence lingers in such voids, where time's gentle chains unleash?

The Graveyard of Seas

We are merely threads in the tapestry of silence, woven not by will but by dreams of darkened desire. Threads, poised yet wretched, against the cigarette smoke spirals of self-sculpted arenas where shadows dance willingly, unchained, unasked.