Upon the concrete skyline of forgotten towns, moans of nostalgia drift through splintered fences; they whisper of reflections past.
An echo of what once was unfolds like cloud patterns in a twilight sky, soft strokes painted by an unseen hand.
The clock ticks in anguish, each oscillation a coil of reality unwinding—ambiguous forms dance within abstract thought, while light trembles.
Do you recall the crooked smile of a stranger in a half-lit room, or the silk threads of laughter spun from ear to ear like northbound winds?
Each week drapes a new shade upon memory, traces swathed in eternal twilight. Has hope leaked through the cracks of time?
Click here to unravel more about Echoes of Time, another layer-self-contained yet connected.
Gaze through the labyrinth of minds in Fragments of Silence, entwined with quiet revelations.