As unto the celestial dome you ascend, seek first the light-shifting sphere, bathe in the moment of being; whilst clutching the talon of memory-bound incompletion, murmur under breath the sounds of forgotten passions—assembled by neither hand nor kin, rather unfolding in the rhythms of your breath, in the chanting of worlds unseen.
Understand, dear seeker, that the void is not of unbeing but essence untamed, wrapped in velvet echoes of yearning time. Its whispers, soft caresses against the skin, falsely claim possession of the heart cursed to endlessly cling— there burns an ember only known in the deepest whispers of touching prose.
Thus engage thine thoughts—displace them, intricately weave through the labyrinthine channels of cosmic flow. Unfold gently at the existential seams, where light meets shadow in eternal waltz. Your fingertips may trace patterns ancient, imparted by spirits wandering realms suspended between dream and conscious light.
Let not the eyes falter, for through the translucent veil, glimpses of truths converge. And understanding, like mirage, intimates tenderly yet elusive, yet close enough to fill the cup of sight—champion each revelation on its own perilous journey.
Whispering Forest's Embrace