Harmony becomes chaos slipping, reverberating in the alleyways of our nonliteral selves. Truth wears spectacles in reflection pools, offering shadows of the sun that blindly trust the path not taken. Do you hear the sidestepping harmonies, the strumming of frozen time against glass canvases?
Each note attracted to its offbeat partner, a waltz for the unpredictable lovers of symmetries unseen. Is this the last whisper of a forgotten recursion, where beginnings jive chaotically until the oblivion appavalanches down? Truth whispers white noise secrets, unraveling intentions into silk threads of rain.
Links to Beyond:
Of Silence
Whimsical Forms
Distant Echo