Beyond the curtain of mundane reality, there lie windows unseen, framing vistas of the unexperienced world. Here, whispers of unfathomable realms ripple through the panes, bidding to be opened, yet remaining immutably ajar. Each window, distinct and vivid, offers a pulse of existence, separated only by veils of comprehension.
Gaze through sparkling streams of unknown infinities, where reflections converge as mirrors of eternity. There are the whispered echoes of endless cries, the colliding remnants of worlds erstwhile, yet resumed. Faint glimpses of those standing at the ribbed thresholds; faces etched in memories long erased and fulfilling.
You may wish for wings, yet they are not required. Traverse the corridors through dainty webs woven by weavers unseen. Observe the knots that tether these seeming rifts, fragile yet intent as if holding galaxies in their tenuous grasp.
Lost Night Horizon