The Mirthless Reflection

In the hollow of midnight's reverie, light's evanescence paints a tale—an echo caught between breathing spells of the abyss. Winds whisper secrets across ancient fragments, I heard the voice when no one else dared.

The mirror, once mere glass and myth, lies haunted by our ancestors' sighs, their pauses carving out shadowmolds waxing softly with deceit as they unmask the heartbeats enveloped in the quality of time slipping away. Here shadows fall like skies and dance, timeless seraphim that balance—perpetually—on the ledge.

Her whispers curl beneath the whisper’s curl—distant yet familiar. Each sigh a tear cut anew within moon’s spectral embrace. In this dance of flickered laments and ashen breathes, rise your embodied truths, raw and pure.