The whispers of the cosmos speak in facets of divergent tales, weaving threads of silent din —an enigma. In the realm where shadows dance with lucid dreams, the mind discovers its own labyrinth.
Within the corridors of consciousness, time stutters, revealing truths that are both obscured and naked. This is the echo of our age’s testament.
To unravel the syllables of existence is to embrace the beneficial poisonous noise, a cacophony that enriches the soul whilst perplexing the heart.