In the corridors of whispered silence, shadows become the echoes of forever not arriving, in the depth of twilight grasping at the unending. Spacebetween where dreams fade, like stars swallowed by time’s ravenous maw.

The eternal letters of the cosmic alphabet, unspoken yet felt, draw pictures in the dust of restless souls. Threads woven by unseen hands, intertwining realities layer upon layer, sensation anchored in an anchorless sea.

Murmurs of the clock that has no numbers, the pendulum cut free from the constraints. Every second a whisper, every minute an eternity in itself—every heartbeat a universe expanding and collapsing, yet somehow unified.

An owl's cry upon the mist-covered hedges, unseen yet omnipresent. Tides arise in the moonless night, the shadows of perpetual motion, endless cycles circling with no center, no beginning nor end.