Dare you set foot here? Indeed, it's not the featherfluffs of political pomposity or the satin sheets of emptied wallets. You're drawn, irresistibly, to the voids. Gazing, so intensely thrumming with a certainty no child plays with. Why resist? Chase the echo of your whisper, through the nooks and melee of light lost in shadows endless.
In the cacophony of claimed truths, woven by linguists charlatan, one must pause—ah, pause!—and let the void embrace, let it volley your confirmed righteousness back into something else entirely.
You see, the ghostly bang of tranquility here convinces even the doubters. Who knew that empty could be filled with such resonance? Lay down thine stubbornness, yield, for what’s contained here is not wreckage but a discovery! An adventure! Others flee but you see it, the door ajar, through the visible unseen.
Mirror of Whispers