It whispers through the corridors of yesterday's dreams, a faint echo of what could have been. In the reflection, I see a life I never lived, shadows of faces I never met.
There stands a voice—sonorous, yet fragmented. It tells stories of roads untaken, of stars scattered like forgotten memories over an endless sea. Each wave crashes gently, reverberating through time, stitching together what has always been torn apart.
Have you ever stared too long into the abyss of your own making? I ask this question, not to invite irony, but because the answer shapes destinies.
Beneath the veneer of mundane reality lies a tapestry of possibilities, each thread a choice, each knot a consequence. The mirror here reflects not what is, but what was, and perhaps, what may yet be.
Discover more in the reverberations: Whispering Seas | Eyes of the Labyrinth