Time wraps around, bends like the branches of a forgotten oak, shifting through whispers of the past. Shadows left by footsteps, or was it a dream? Fragments scattered across the landscape of memory, like shards of glass reflecting sunlight, yet never revealing the whole.
Words once etched in the air, now unspoken, echo of anachronisms— What we became? meets The chime of distant winds. Casual reminders of yesteryears haunt the twilight, painting the mundane collapse of significance.
Awaken—where did you last lose your path? Existence trembles in the void, glimpses of laughter, pieces of forgotten conversations fading behind opaque glass— trapped in the now.
We read the stars but they speak in forgotten tongues. Are they constellations, or fragments of us? Lean closer, as if to listen, yet the silence falls like snow on ancient ruins. Click here to unveil another layer among the layers.