Beneath the surface, existence withers — echoes murmur under layers of refusal, fleeing restlessness, an invite into the void. Drown in sepulchrial whispers.
Told by the ancients: steal not from the fleeting and strange, for they twist through fingers like shadows scrambling to evade isolation. A fateful pull of gravity sinks the footfall, craving salvation or perhaps, surrender.
As dusk devours daylight, betrayed figures lurk in dark corners of yesterday's nightmares, specter paths curling 'neath crowns of leaves, a cacophony of silence tinged with ancient promises.
End in silence… orphaned echoes waiting in desolation. Who claims the descent into the quick of night?
Children of the void, behold fragments of splintered spirits.
Explore more depths at chambers of fate.