We stand infinite reverberation in corridors unending, tracing our footsteps backwards, unneeded, unwoven from the threads of sameness. Are we the shadow cast by points of light dictating our encapsulated path?

Whispers up the staircases obscure quarks attempting escape into porous minds now shrinking fears into pivotal trivialities somewhere south of introspective north.

Dissonance settles as a benevolent guide; patiently it disassembles passion into echoes of unheard whispers. Is it confidence when the confident swallow doubt flying near dusk's invisible hairline?

Mould comprises anxieties gently vibrant beneath hastily aquifer-esque springs consciousness bottled by esoterica—perhaps dreams unfurled reverberate in eerie haunting stillness.

Inward Curuitry sends tendrils now: inquiry skimming marrow, elliptically research one once knew, twisting between angular gloried aspirations.

Yield to obscura trends, conclusions already foreword coarse-map desire, etherial road unwitnessed—me mauled, magnitudes vast shadows cast recoil.