Footsteps linger, in a land where blue trees float, connected only by the celestial mist. Silence is a melody, caressing the unknown. Walking here feels less like navigation and more an unveiling, a revelation without intent. These periwinkle sands jimmy underfoot, sighing secrets beneath layers not visible to the eye, only to the heart. Do you hear their ancient breath?
Clouds, raspberry and lemon, dance above this surreal expanse. They shape thoughts, dissolve egotism, as I commune with resonance left by forgotten steps. Immutable yet fragile, they erratically epitomize beauty sans competition. There's a soothing cadence to our monologue, like you're speaking and I'm only listening and maybe that's all it needs to be.
Where do we go, without the chains of determination? Footsteps wash off the grains of purpose, embracing vulnerability. Are these trails ours to keep, or merely borrowed from dreams whispered by some unseen entity? Pathways thread like wire through untamed circuits – electric whispers lead astray in perfect, serene confinement.