Deep within the cosmos, beyond the flickering stars, lies a void of ink and silence. Here, mystery confuses and mystics. The faint inscriptions echo through the ages, not seen but felt; not understood, yet known.
In the depths, we find truth, often cloaked in the ugly garments of reality. Life, a series of etchings on stone, written by hands unseen and powers unknown.
Consider: the silent echoes of existence resonate deeper than the loudest thunder. They are whispers in the wind, currents beneath the calmest sea.
"The ugliest truth is that which we cannot escape, no matter the paths we wander or the masks we wear. To confront it is to embrace what lies dormant within."
Lost Paths