Where do lost whispers go? Breadcrumbs in the wind...
A watchful dreamer devours clouds, breaking bread with shadows.
Yesterday's banalities taste of fractured glass and velvet nightmares.
Interlaced paths recede into mazes and mirrors, who holds the thread?
Eternal due date! Banished in a furtive glance...
Floors made of paper, while ceilings spiral into the throat of time.
Echoes reflect against the nothingness, where are the agents of silence?