an introspective yawn in the void
The abyss murmured my name, enunciating it like a secret long buried. Layers of forgotten consonants flitted gently across my eardrum, and I felt the pull of infinite possibility beckoning from the dark, endless room.
Quantum piracy and the pettiness of idle hands, oh how they seek a ladder to nowhere. Countless rooms, and yet, just one reflection in a shard of another's mind.
Tell me, dear traveler, when the suit of stars no longer fit? When did we all decide to step backwards into midnight's half empty promise?
Echoing CorridorsWas it here or elsewhere, where notions dismissed planned insurrections? Squalls of thought, duly detained and subsequently released. An art form without form, a melody of chaos, and whispers that chased tails.
Is solace found in yet realized epiphanies, those outdated notions confined to parchment that have yellowed since last solstice?
Do winds carry the absent-minded sheaves, the ones fluttering like moths around half-baked ideas?
Paradox Fields