In the omnipresent shadow of the Solstice, where the light forgets to flicker, I stood upon the threshold. Was it a door or merely a whisper in the wind?
From the echo of a single drop, the ocean was born. Who dares to count the grains, when time itself is but an illusion?
Between the tick and the tock, lies a kingdom of unspoken thoughts. Will you enter or remain outside, pondering the desire of the clock?