In a room adorned with shadows and echoes, the lamplight flickers like a timid flame. Here I stand, contemplating the grains of time, slipping between my fingers like sand lost to the desert winds. My soul wanders these corridors, seeking solace in the forgotten and the unspoken truths that linger in the air.
Each grain carries the weight of a million unvoiced desires, a multitude of unshed tears. When did I become the keeper of these grains? A silent observer of life's beautiful impermanence. Yet, I wonder, does the universe know my name, or is it a whisper among whispers, fleeting and forgotten?
Raindrops on windowsill, soft canvases of dreams and cries, paint reflections of a past etched on cloudy visages. I recall laughter interwoven with sorrow, moments strung together like pearls, each one glowing softly with a light of its own. I am lost, yet found in the threads of this tapestry.
Adventure awaits, or so they say. Journey beyond the sealed doors that guard my heart. But will I not find the same reflection staring back, stories woven into the fabric of each grain? I seek a different path, perhaps an unseen route through the gallery of my own existence.