The Archives of Thought

Once, in the unfathomable depths of existence, a whisper echoed—

The past, a relentless sentinel, guards its cherished secrets in endless corridors.

Imagine a world within worlds, where every choice reverberates through the halls,

casting shadows of what might have been, shimmering in the dim glow of possibility.

The process of forgetting is but a pause, a breath held in anticipation of the inevitable return; memory, like a tide, cannot be resisted. Amidst these vaulted chambers, we ponder: What sings the evening song?

Questions, like moths, circle the flame of understanding,

burning yet beautiful, guiding our gaze upward towards the elusive truth.

Perhaps, within this silent sanctuary, the answers whisper back—

the walls remember; do we, as wanderers in time's tapestry, choose to listen? Where does the light begin?