In the corridors where no light dares to enter, shadows congregate. They speak only in echoes, their words drifting like specters through the vaulted silence.
Consider the essence of being, and the shadow hides not from existential dread, but rather embraces it, becoming one with the whispering void. Paths unwind into perspectives, choices unmade hang heavy in the air like cobwebs untouched by light.
A question surfaces: What truth lies beyond the threshold of perception inexplicable? And as these words fade, like chimes in distant lands, silence answers with a ponderous gaze.
Spoken Words