Etched on nested layers lies meaning uncharted, each whisper a constellation of leaden dreams cradled in daylight.
Do we decode the pulse of the universe, or only embellish patterns of our own weaving within the tapestry of stars?
Oft it feels as though what makes sense flutters beyond reach, pawing at the azure storms held captive within our minds.
The heart speaks in allegory, mapping the morass of choices through infinite corridors of chance yet traversed.