Are the quiet whispers within... too quiet to hear or merely cowardice deceiving yourself?
You speak without words, yearning for recognition, yet find solace in their complacency...
What does the shadow say when light abandons it? Does it grieve for being or celebrate absence?
If the walls could speak, would they retell the stories of yesterday? Shadows of what could have been... the uncertain prophecy that everyone seeks.
In the labyrinthine corridors of introspection, echoes the question: Beyond sound, beyond light, what allure might the void hold?
Choose a path, a reflection perhaps:
Embrace the unknown or Stare into the mirror.
The still air brims with the weight of untold stories... mold them from silence.
Scream... if for only yourself to hear…