In a world where noise become whispers, I found myself tracing whispers in the echo of light. The gentle pulse reminds me of thoughts once vivid; now diluted through quiet waves of solitude. A glowlight dances like an ember, within the stillness of a tired heart.
What footprints did we leave as we journeyed here — the questions linger unresolved, much like the reflection in a pool that stretches infinitely, revealing only haze. Patterns unnamed spin around me, a delicate dance without form or pretense.
I seek clarity, yet only find shadows playing on the periphery, a distant memory left obscured. Reckless abandon calls softly as old heartache mellows, coloring the horizon with softer pastels.
Do you remember the forgotten paths we once pledged to follow? Navigation seems futile here, but in our wandering, we've uncovered softer places to land.
Haunting echoes of truth, floating through the hollow caverns of inner sight—will they guide us, or merely whisper ghosts of what might have been?