Silent Resonance

In the beginning, silence was a refuge. A blanket pulled tightly around the shoulders on a stormy night. But as every silence has its time, ours was marked with an echo—a resonance in the marrow, silent yet potent.

You'd never know, she said, unless you listened to the faintest wisps of truth that lurked in the corners of the room, like phantoms at the edge of your vision.

The streets echoed with sound, yet it was the whisper of shadows that held the deepest stories. Amid the relentless chatter of life, the silent screams nestled in dark recesses, waiting for a kind soul to dare unravel them.

Some truths sway gently, beneath the surface, coaxing the attentive heart to dive deeper.

Underneath the luminous chaos of the world, beneath the surface of relentless motion, lies a quietness that knows no bounds. It is here that resonances form and are forgotten, just as they are here where they are born.