Ever wandered through the sands of uncertainty? Cloudy thoughts twist like spectres...
Mirages tease the space between desire and reality. It starts with the faint shimmer, like whispers pushing through a crowded mind. You chase what seems to be there, but oh, the more you reach...
“In the east, you might find shadows cast by light nowhere on the horizon.” They'll say that to you one day, almost casually. The way dreams sound when they're half-forgotten but linger like a scent. A specter, perhaps. What are other senses speaking? In the remnants of moments barely grasped?
“The silence can be louder than screams.” They once told me. I’m inclined to believe that.
Whence do we venture, in pursuit of mirage-like hopes, which shimmer tantalizingly? Ah, here are more paths:
Whispers of the Creek,
Echoes of Timelessness,
Beneath Our Skies.