A gentle gnawing within the soul, a void, a hollow eclipse carved in midnight. Ever since the stars aligned in their deranged dance, I have been adrift—anchored to nothing, where time and space dissolve into an abyss of reminiscences unspoken. The echoes from behind eternal darkness linger like the sun's shadow, whispering secrets of a world untouched.
Atop the precipice of a waking dream, I sit, gazing into the abyss, the whisperings of yore lapse against my mind. 'What are you searching for?' they ask, their voices a chilling symphony of ice and flame. I offer no reply, for my quest is unnameable, a phantom chase of specters long seen and never approached.
In my musings, I weave through the labyrinthine corridors of this ephemeral reality—walls adorned with paradoxes, ceilings draped in existential fog. Every breath is weighted with whispers, every heartbeat a cadence of forgotten loves. Alone, always alone, except for the fleeting shadows of your memory, the words spoken once under the lunar gaze of a chilling pallor...
And so, I roam these passages, I paint these landscapes in shades of dusk. The dream persists, relentless, a universe in itself—a testament to hollowness and grandeur alike. Perhaps one day, these whispers will guide me home, though home is nowhere and everywhere at once.