The Labyrinthine Echo

Voices, shadows of thoughts, brushing against the walls of silent solitude.

I grasp at moments, they slip like grains through the sieve of a dreaming mind.

In the sprawl of reverberated whispers, does truth fall away or gather strength?

Moving Paths

Fragments of Lucidity

There are echoes of chambers once filled with laughter or perhaps just moments passing.

In this room, the air trembles with words never spoken.

Can one break the glass of echo, or must all sounds return to their source?