Beneath a canopy of night, tales speak through rustling leaves. In shadows, soft-seen figures hint secrets of once forgotten lands. Listen, and they may echo in your soul:
— did the winds recount a hunter's lament, or the traveler’s song?
Echoes carry the essence of past whispers, unspoken thoughts swirling as atoms colliding, vibrations you feel instead of hear. Here, secrets inhabit the air, readings from an unwritten tome of twilight reflections. Touch the air and know it remembers, resounding in surreptitious chants.
Faint movements like stars blinking across hallowed treetops, listen to their silent muscles clenching; their sentinels guardians revealing labyrinthine narratives. Perhaps they taunt our quarry cravings, leaning close with only their shadows bridled tight. Seek out, in haste, the hidden estate of fled compassion.
Whispered Thoughts Deliverance