Within the endless corridors of thought, I wander. Echoes of forgotten promises tiptoe around shadows—dust settles, whispers build.
Reflecting under the weight of brilliance, contemplating truths forged in silence. Here lies the bittersweet aftertaste of intent, poisonous yet beneficial as the murmur bends through walls.
Nowhere, everywhere, somewhere— the paradox stagnates but hums vigorously. A stop, a wait, it slides softly.
Mistakes shiver in twilight, veering off course yet faithful, stitching one to ten. Oh, how integration eludes! Balance in transformation rests concealed behind; it pulsates but remains unseen.
Listen to the Lost Echoes, reflections come back artistically bruised, as I collect the charred remnants of yesterday’s decisions.