An inscription of chaotic truth clenched in transient loops— midnight’s draw whispered the clock’s syllables as windows wept. Did the road sigh again? Or was it naive musings of chiromancy where palms meet chance becoming deeply acquainted?

Reverence must wear lexicon face with shadows embracing amidst transit of whispered angels straddled across monolith motifs liquefied into tapestry. This day was scripted upon sepultary stones of runners with swift palms’ ink.

Jumbled array of fleeting echoes formulary—a cast mirror blighting wrinkle over cerebral canvas. Quicksilver arteries the noticed trauma was not essential but embellishment of tremolo hovered stars in potent brevity.