In the Quiet of the Reflective Abyss

Echoes of the untold linger, floating in the silvered glass. Faces seen—never known—trace the periphery of tangibility.

The hollow whispers speak of a time not yet written, shadowy refugees from unconstructed realities.

Do you remember the afternoons spent within this boundary? When light would fracture into fragments of dreams?

Explorers of forgotten paths, reach through the veil of the ordinary. Touch the image with shadowed fingertips and feel the resonance of the untold.