Invisible whispers overlap, tracing silhouettes on the murmurous void. In an alcove of mirrors, none see their own face. The reflection speaks in riddles, echoes of echoes.
Seek the places not spoken of, where light refracts into solitude and shadows become... something else. A realm where words pickle in the sunlight, yet stay forever cold.
The floor beneath is not floor, but an endless questioning. Chronicles of forgotten answers hang brittle on unseen walls.
Find solace in the unspeakable and dance where clarity dims, beneath the twilight of half-formed thoughts.