Like the quiet pulse of a sea cave unseen, the bioluminescent glow traced paths through darkness. It marked the entrance, a veil of light whispering secrets to those who dared approach. Each flicker was a sigh, soft and transient, untouched by time's smothering hands.
In a world bustling and rife with speaking tones and clattering moments, these lights held their own. A respite from the daily gravity, illuminating not a way, but a presence — a quiet witness to lives unfathomed, free of judgment and free of voice.
There was a hum beneath the hush, akin to the pulsing heart of stories waiting to be shared. Underneath their tranquil flicker, existence whispered of journeys made within and in between spaces felt yet unseen — halls of reflection lit by the glow of memory.
The siren's call of the mundane kept them captive, those with dreams sewn expansive, but tonight, the sigh was louder. The soul heard its echo, traveling from distant lands by unseen bridges, beneath submerged waves that lapped at the shore of tomorrow.
Feel the lapping light in your dreams — swallow deep the quiet gleam and allow it to carry you over the edge. Return only as you were, flickering back and forth, beneath eyes that watch but do not see.
(Entwined) Can you uncover the whispers echoing back a century? Or perhaps retrace the gathered silence of flickering lives before ours?