Do shadows tell tales when the sun relinquishes its grip upon us? In the cavernous spaces of my mind, the reverberations of whispered dreams echo, shaping the void into forms both familiar and grotesque.
Here, in this twilight sanctuary, I etch the unseen; I am both creator
and creation, ensnared in a dance with specters of my own making.
What does the night hold that the day conceals in its bright arms?
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