Listen. In the silence of the morning. There are whispers, echoes of dreams long gone, shimmering in the twilight of thought. What is left of the past, like dust motes suspended in beams of light, speaks softly, urging to remember the warmth in forgotten shadows.
Do you sense it? The gravity wells of emotion, hidden beneath the surface, like the distant pull of a secret moon. Each memory is a planet orbiting an invisible sun, marking its silent course in the night sky of your heart.
Navigate these murmurs, dear wanderer, for within them lies the map to your soul’s hidden constellations. Follow the paths, however winding, to find the fainter stars — places only touched by the specter of hope and the breath of dreams.
Continue your journey: Ethereal Echoes, Solitude's Canvas.