Shadows whisper the truth of abyssal seas, where time penetrates soft realities, and we drift, suspended whispers in the moan of forgotten dreams— the unlived lives threading through the labyrinth of existence.
Beneath flecks of sparkling vapor, exist— echoes of beings unresolved, nurturing shades lurk, overlapping possibilities hovered like remnants tinged with longing.
Consciousness reconfigures form, climbing effortlessly, yet falling through infinity, laced with glimmers of unborn thoughts in suspension— fractures of reason evaporate like mist.
Remember: each moment a Phaëthon in motion, trailing through the cosmic sea— or a specter, merely an outline in the dust of space— images merge and disperse.
The Beauty of Dissolution Echoes of the Lost Whispers in Alternatives