Silent screams collectively echo in shadows; reality trembles under invisible burdens. There is a pulse in the dark, faintly beating within the walls of consciousness. Time holds tight, with invisible strings cradling fleeting memories.
Every now and then, a luminous figure cuts through the veil, flickering images of everything lost. The embodiment of safe spaces, the sky unfolds, as if whispering untold histories of relentless calamities, deep-rooted fears, and unwanted truths.
As the world spins, imagination deteriorates, trembling under weightless recollections of a prior moment.
Watch the clock spiral! Tock tick tock.
Steps fade away, yet resound in the crumbling architecture of past selves, while tomorrow looms in a mist across the horizon, shapeless and formless.