In the cadence of walking, where footsteps once dreamed of permanence, lies a song that refuses to fade—a melody smeared across time, pathless and ethereal.
The wanderer asks not where the path leads, for the destination has lost its meaning. Instead, they ask the resonating fragments of past journeys: What echoes linger within the heart's vacant halls? A question posed to silent companions never seen, but felt.
A body of work lost in dim-lit taverns of history, forgotten manuscripts speak in hushed tones about the beauty in paths taken only in the mind's theatre.
The shadows trace the outlines of unrealized trajectories, weaving through what might have been. Nostalgia smells like falling leaves, an auditory sensation felt in the fading far-off music of an unknown band.
To walk unmapped trails is to listen to the silence and find details in the absence of sounds.
What remains of wishes? Dreams of missing | Solitude's Edge: Unspoken Dialogues