Under the layers of twilight whispers, an echo of laughter dances through hollow corridors. The consciousness drifts like a feather lost— discovered, perhaps not, beyond the mist of thought's fog.
Scribbles in forgotten journals, maps to lost dreams, chart the course of these silent voyages. Whenever darkness pours in, another fragment unfolds— a confession from shadows, once more, they speak without words, touch the untenable silence.
When visions collide, reality bends; subtly, the veils shift. The unseen, unraveling like threads in time's tapestry, revealing punctured stars woven into night's cloak.