In the twilight hour, when the sun dips beyond the edge of reality,
a whisper echoes through the corridors of my mind.
It speaks of forgotten things—lost not to time, but to obscured vision.
Each shadow holds a doorway, obscured by the veil of perception.
To dream is to navigate these corridors,
where the boundaries of self and universe blur.
A portal opens at every choice, yet none are ever seen or known.
Who am I, but a silhouette against the tapestry of stars?
An echo of what has been, fused with what could be.
Reflect on the reflections, they say,
for therein lies the truth hidden in the folds of dreams.
Contemplate your path: Unveiled Horizons
Whisper to the void: Speaking Silence
Traverse further: Next Steps