Whispers of hades linger in the twilight, while shadows dance in corners unseen — pregnant with echoes, timeless endeavors fade as light bends in a tapestry of moons.
In the fabric of night, the watchman beckons phantoms of yore, cryptic sigils devolve beyond reason. "Where do we go, if we’ve not gone?" is a mantra lost, a remnant’s reminder.
Once she wrote letters to galaxies, binding memories into knots of silence. Somewhere in time, they unravel, revealing the hidden — entangled destinies commence a jittery waltz; they dream in dislocation.
— In search of infinity, footprints archived in the foggy canvas of dreaming avenues — a pathway begins to hum, interlinking breaths of those who understood, yet never spoke.
A haunted crescendo softens the unspooled voice: Fragments of Time - Whispers Beneath.
Encryption can be a gust of color, moments emerging, twilight insurgents gripping mislaid consonants.