Fractal Nostalgia

In the labyrinth of pixels, where shadows weave tales of light,
there lies a memory of an illusion, cradled within its own recursion.
Each loop a whisper, a forgotten dream remade in fractals.

The past is a mirror, endlessly repeating, reflecting
the faces of those who have never been.
Somewhere between the layers lies truth, shimmering
like the edge of a fading reality.

Reflections in Digital Mirrors
Spiral into the Void
Whispers of the Phantom