In the quiet symphony of the night, the stars whisper tales. Time dances, a shadowy partner, while dreams weave their secret paths. Echo of the sun's murmur, advice cloaked in twilight.
The ocean of thought ripples, messages in a bottle float to the surface. Who is the seer, who the blind? The horizon blurs as wisdom spills its erratic tide. Floating lanterns, lost in the abyss, seek not the shore, but the abyss within.
Beneath the layers of sleep, a mystery sings in the language of the lost. Anchors of reason drag, dragging the mind to depths unseen.