Shadows whisper in tongues unknown, screaming, seeking, never found. Beneath the layers of sand and whispers, the truth lies cold, untouched, while the mirage dances, flickering in the desert of the mind.
Wind carries secrets, murmurs of old souls, buried beneath the dunes, trapped in twilight fog, silent, yet so loud in the cacophony of stillness. Oh, how they scream, but no one hears the echoes of their silent pleas.
Passing through corridors of reflection, the senses deceive, revealing nothing, yet everything is apparent, obscured behind a veil of stars and forgotten dreams. Where do the truths hide?
The Echo of Whispers Homeward Mirage