Echoes of forgotten drums lay beneath the skin of reality, whispers in the shadows, reminding the lost souls of their dance forgotten. In the heart of the ceremony, the air thickens, a membrane between lives, stretching into the unknowable.
Ritualistic flames flicker in the void, an anchor to the ephemeral. Eyes closed, the universe spins faster, unraveling the cases of complacency. The scent of burnt sage mingles with the electric tension of the rebirth moment.
As the portal pulses, each heartbeat syncs with the rhythm of the spheres. A melody crafted from forgotten dreams, weaving through time. Listen. Listen. Listen.
And in the final breath, the light bends, revealing paths untaken, whispers turning to echoing laughter. Behind every blink of truth lies another secret, waiting to be unveiled, waiting to be danced. Inner Silence || Fragments of the Whisper