As twilight embraces the day, whispers of time flow unceasingly, unseen beneath the surface.
Consider the ripple, a vibration of existence.
A shimmer on the mind's eye, decrypting the moments lost to shadows.
What is the measure of an unseen wave? An echo without a sound, a touch that never touches. The cycle of concealment, revealing what is never shown.
The ancients spoke in parables, whispering truths encrypted in the fabric of time. Flow with the unseen, let the current guide the mind beyond the known shores.
Murmurs of the Past Phenomena of the Present Luminescence Ahead