Paths diverge and converge at the ethereal intersection, like a train station for the soulβs reflection wisps moving in twilight shadows. The air shivers as shades ripple, echoing hauntingly within untouched recesses. Footsteps matter no longer, tracing spirals of purpose nameless, voiceless, but oh, they sing!
The dreary songs lead us through corridors of wonderβthe surreal tapestries hang enigma manifest a dance with forgotten choice. Whispers known not in familiar tongues slip through lips not meant to speak. And yet, the words do ring like glass shattering softly.