A whisper lost, revamping the void. I gaze, but who stares back? Reptile, shadow, or my past? Lips chant a testament, fades, & dwindle, caught in the maddening truth of pixels& > precise yet surreal unfolding.

Tempered glass, an alibi in material transience, do I speak or fabricate? Reflection of the morning sky, flipped inside out, unrecognized voices echo timelines. Yet no shape appears, emerges molten limits. This reflects only the surface, converging in an obscure entropy.