The corridor stretched endlessly, a cold line of shadows tracing between each forgotten moment of yore. Walls adorned with invisible portraits. Here, silence spoke.
The mechanism of remembrance grinds silently, each cog perfect in its geometrical precision, rotating without fatigue. A dance of heartless cogs and steely precision—a ballet devoid of warmth.
Observe the dust suspended in a forgotten spotlight, particles executed in frozen cascade, dancing on memory's breath—a memory never whispered.
Dreams Manifested The Mechanical Heart Past LivesThe clock ticks without synchronized empathy. Cold rhythms measure out scores for celestial bodies, bound no longer to shadow and light.
Yet contained within the relentless churning, fragments of luminescence grasp toward borrowed warmth, remembering an obsolete poetry.