"In the mirrors of silence, the soul speaks..." Was that not the truth? Yet, here I stand,
reflections dancing like shadows on a forgotten shore, listening to the echoes of an abandoned past.
Listen again
Lost transmissions, buried beneath layers of space-time, whisper secrets of hearts once known.
Every drift, an echo. Every echo, a memory.
Secrets revealed
"What was it we dreamed, on that cusp of understanding?"
A question unanswered, yet the silence provides
clarity in its absence. Reflection in its oblivion.
Find your answer