Echoes Beneath Solstice Mist

cascading echoes, ripples, the sensation of something at the periphery — faint signals coming through, not quite decipherable yet imbued with an undeniable yearning; if only there was... silence, whispers pulling one deeper into undiscovered tracks, shadows lunching on photons imprinted in nerve endings...

the undulating reverie drifts by the horizon...

perhaps you, intertwine, caress the very bottom of voids unfilled and answers still unseen, streaming myst... The Id Maze — perhaps only more questions.
Ancestral Whispers hover, linger, waiting for palms to part these, creeping... like greying inertia **alongside heartbeats; framed within the dance of unwritten thoughts —