In the footfalls of the moonlit silence,
echo the creaks of paths not taken, unseen,
woven through whispers of transient dreams.
How does one traverse land unknown?
The echoes ask without an answer.
Touch the journey, feel the unseen, thus speaks the phantom limb.
Out there in the void, beyond the confines of vision, lies an unseen tapestry that resonates when walked upon, delicately woven by forgotten steps and unseen breath. Do you feel it? The path beneath: an imprint of absence. It knows not light or shadow, only presence and memory. Paths untaken touch minds like silken webs; spun by dreams' morning dew where mighty thoughts linger.
Ciphers of the Ethereal
Scribble a rune, ink a phantom, words drawn from the absence: Spirals encrusted in nocturnal mist, A faceless lunar guard smiles in the fading ether, Offering solace to tread carefully around: The edges of sanity overlap in sporadic hues.
Ask not the questions etched in twilight: Instead embrace the void's gentle caress. Each step records in eternality, Nurturing a garden of starlit petal estrangement. From each throb of silence, mold mysteries yet sung, Yet written in doors ajar by otherworldly hands, unseen.