Sometimes, the silence can feel like clamor.
Is the echo fading or coming back, winding through ivy and dust?
Every action draws out specters, whispering in the void. What goes missing?
To navigate the unseen, one must listen to artifacts of sound: unwound threads of time.
Whispers tell of delicious things. > Dessert, you ask? It hangs...\nMore questions dusted in obscurity: