Beneath the surface of sleep
a whisper dances between shadows
weaving tales of forgotten paths, obscured by time.
Corners tumble into obsidian mirrors
where echoes of footsteps
never find a beginning or an end.
Silken threads of the night's tapestry
ensnare the wandering soul
in a web of delicate illusions.
Follow the whispers,
but beware the mirror
that shows not the reflection
but the essence of shadowed echoes.
alternate reality
lies waiting
within the maze.
lit only by the glow
of spectral beacons
unearth the truth.
here
where time wraps tenderly
around whispered dreams.