Silent Canvas

Whispers linger through shivering corridors, the sound of eternity chilling the air—

As the silent canvas reveals, once more, every stroke a gasp, every pause a sigh. Here, dwell the unsung verses where no heart echoes, nor scream reverberates, just an endless loop seeking escape—but finding none.

The ghosts of tomorrow flock like shadows in the night, always rejecting the light—fleeing instead toward the familiar call of yesterday’s dreams.

The rhythm of silence perpetuates—long after the brushes have rested, beneath the sheets of spectral quiet... The loop compelling yet cruel—the echo remains unwavering.