Have you ever listened to the echoes of whispers weaved around the edges of dreams? They ask questions without seeking answers. In the folds of time, inescapable yet elusive, lie these denytapestries.
"If one does not speak, do they become the silence they crave?" pondered the shadow, its form melting into the patterns before it.
The winds carried secrets as the pathways unfolded beneath horizonless skies. Each step reverberated with the gravity of thoughts untethered.
Somewhere Over Again