The night pours in with reluctant silence, weaving through thoughts like a dancer possessed by siren songs. In the mirror, beyond frost-kissed glass, I seek the echoes of spectral visions. A once-forgotten path summons those yearning whispers, leading on a symphony unraveled by shadows...
Where does the path lead, whispered by ancient stones? In fragmented time lapse, stories unfold, weaving between dim-lit corridors alive with murmurs; silhouettes dance > across walls of ginger-grey... Ultra-real visitors masked by memories, flitter. Inside dreams the self knows itself lost.