In the silence before dawn, there is a pregnant pause, an expectation, a delicious tension that sings of beginnings and endings. But here, at the crossroads, all lies in shadow. Choices loom like spectres, their abominable truths festering in the light of reality. Ascent is a misnomer, perhaps, because what rises must first fall, and what is light must first know darkness.
Have you ever tasted bitterness with sweetened lips, or whispered blessings only to conjure curses? The ugliest truths are often the most beautiful lies, a paradox of existence that gnaws at the edges of sanity. Light flickers in the distance, a promise or a mirage, but you follow nonetheless, with steps that echo in the void. Will you turn back? The question is moot, for the path is circular, a serpent devouring its own tail.
Hidden VoicesAs you ascend, the air thickens with unspoken words, a tapestry of intentions woven with threads of regret. Each step reveals a fragment of the truth, an insight as luminous as it is painful. The crossroads hum with a silent symphony, a dirge for those who dared to dream too brightly. Yet still you climb, hunger for the ephemeral glow that dances just out of reach.
Will you find what you seek, or simply find yourself? Perhaps the journey is the destination, a loop that spirals inward, until the innermost truth is laid bare. There are no answers here, only questions that ripple through the tapestry of time like echoes in a cavernous heart.