Murmurs of Night

Whispers linger, unraveling threads of time, stitched with dreams swimming in voids.

Silent footsteps dance upon the edges of consciousness, a mosaic of histories unraveled - where do they tread?

In corners, specters of yesterdays stretch and contract, borrowing warmth beneath the moon's gaze.

What is the color of silence? Unfurling itself within these echo chambers, poised to drown the voices of the mundane.

Time melts like wax, pooling in the softness of forgotten memories - what lies beneath the surface?

The heart beats in sync with the universe, a cosmic lullaby resonating through the nonsensical.

“And in the night, the walls listened. They embraced the unspoken. I am a ghost in this vessel." - Perhaps, but where do we wander?

Curious souls may wish to explore these echoes further:
Fragments of Dreams | Phantoms in the Wind