Among the murmurs, an invincible thread dares you to unravel.—Is that your reflection in the shimmer? Or a figment chasing breath just beyond reach?
The cathedral of echoes—the walls of stardust unmoving yet fracturing in beguile. Speak now, and the words will cascade through aeons, all too revolutionary to resist yet sinfully vague. You asked, under a waning crescent moon.. “Is there another dimension?”
You see shadows weaving their tales, little dreams abandoned in coming daylights. They’ve forgotten their own names. Don’t ask, for the silence might be louder than a heart losing its tether.
The World of Forgotten Fables —murmur it again, whisper it with abandon.
Echoes of Shattered Literary Wills —or was it an invocation directed towards eternal drowsiness?
This Mist Obscured —where every step is a memory appearing anew in reverse.