In the hushed corners where shadows dream, words unravel like forgotten tapestries. Once, these woven thoughts sparkled with purpose, but time, that relentless artist, eroded them into whispers. Here, I am but a ghost among ghosts, manifesting in the remnants of what was.
The roads of perception, lined with flickering echoes, lead to empty doorways where visions grow wild and reclaim their territory. Each step through this landscape stirs the soil of memory, releasing the scent of entropic clarity. There are no signs, no maps guiding the lost; only the soft murmur of existence.
And so, we wander, we wanderers, tracing spectral figures in the mist. Their stories intertwine with ours, forming an invisible web of shared oblivion. Here is where the heart sinks and soars, a constant dance of light and shadow, ever elusive, ever transient.
Dive Deeper Find Solitude