In the corners of consciousness, where light hesitates, shadows play their silent symphony.
Each movement, a reverberation, echoes in the vast emptiness of the mind.
What truths lie in the dance of obscurities?
Do shadows, uncoupled from their lights, yearn for more than mere silhouettes?
Consider the single note, ringing in a vacant hall.
Its persistence is not in volume, but in the depth of its journey.
Like the shadow's waltz, it seeks no audience, yet fills the space with its own resonance.
We too, like shadows, traverse paths of illumination—searching, ever searching for the source.