The symphonies of subtle descent, reverberating within the peripheries of logical existence. I am but a drop, treading in the rhythm of schematic abyss.
From heights unseen, I clutch the chilling breath of distant storms. Each fusion with the earth a merge with whispers untold. Such echoes reside in the cradle of rivulets, veiling voices in micro-conjuring mists.
Perceive my oscillating dance as I align, falling through the empires of unspoken deluge. Illuminated by streetlights adorned along the declivities of solitude.
Am I caught within labyrinthine vein-structures, diverging paths etched in transient luminescence? My connection recalls epochs where soil imbibes streams of secret narrative ticking towards dissolution.