In the folds of the unspoken, where shadows twist in whispers, there lies a road cloaked in the brume of understanding. A path not marked on maps, yet etched in the fabric of being, unseen by the eye that looks too closely.
The journey begins where the horizon bends—not in physical distance, but in the mind’s eye, where thought takes flight beyond the familiar skies. Here, the traveler becomes the journey, and the road unfurls within.
Consider the unseen. Consider the road. Follow the currents.
Among the echoes of silence, a voice speaks of destinations unnamed and the essence of paths unfollowed. A tale woven through the labyrinth of existence, where every fork is a new beginning.
What is hidden is not lost, but waiting, like a sigh held in time, waiting for release. Embrace the spectres.