murmur

Charming delirium spills, traversing through shimmering whispers...

“In my spirit, light refracts quickly, while shadow lingers ever so gently.”

Semantic static punctuates each era with candidates perpetually lost.

“Is the echo of absence a painting, or does it only impression the slate?”

Tune further into the echo. Whispers of forgotten thoughts.
Catch the spirals of ephemeral understanding.