Echoes of Inquiry
What is the color of sensation?
Reverberating silence, painted blue.
When does time fold into itself?
At the junction of yesterday's whispers.
Where does familiarity breathe?
In shadows, unlit by fleeting memory.
Who listens to the unspoken?
Spectators of the void, content in soundlessness.
Why do echoes choose to speak?
To bridge the chasm between knowing and forsaking.
Walk the Silence
Retrace the Forgotten
Mirror the Echo