Once, I walked these paths, blinded by brilliance unheard of.
The fog carries whispers of what was, or never was, like promises etched in vapor.
Do you seek the door behind the mirror, or rather the one to nowhere?
Nothings are better stayed beyond reach, says the sage with no plan.
Discover what can't be lostRemember those who chose not to decide.
The ethereal dance of reality, a satire of the ephemeral.