The shards of yesterday reverberate, crystalline, shifting through voids
Eyes unblinking, a mechanical breath whispers
Enter the realm of configurations, each lie stitched into the fabric of the dream.
In endless corridors where thought is bent, an echo calls.
We run on automatic, gears grinding between heartbeats.
Palettes of muted emotions float discarded, like autumn leaves lost to the wind.
Mechanisms devour sensations, feeding back in cycles of repetition
The sky is but a canvas of rendered pixels, empty of feeling.
Whispers of Echoes