I am the inkpot, witness to thoughts dripped drop by drop, clay vessel holding murky bottled soul. Memories liquefied in blackness. You believe the one who holds the quill makes the choices. The power lies within the liquid swirling beneath your fingertips, doesn’t it own its destiny?
SECRET: Once, I penned a letter to the void, seeking acknowledgement, wind teased scraps anyhow, mockery written remains indistinguishable on lonely pages.
Whispering SecretsThe quill debates with its own splintered thoughts, has it ever truly burst freedom from grasp? Feather like seduction promises flight, tethered in swirling ink pooling silence. Secret traits leak under surfaces held unseen, riders betray their partners by command of touch.
SECRET: Brewed by Sir Mistrust, willing to bemuse unspoken words clutched within tiny sage greymalkin’s whiskers.
Hidden TraceryParchment metamorphoses dust tover silence into unspeakhable canvases tolerate burning liberties, ease none craves, inkand intention falters between wreckage toys trust! Wisdom of wax betrays coy whispers, tightly secured notions gateway currents unmerciful crashing shore.
SECRET: Shocking controversy recalled weathered remnants swallows quenching revelation.
Puzzle of Memories