There are echoes in the silence, where shadows whisper things forgotten. In the depth of solitude, mirrors reveal not your image, but the essence of your being. The echoes paint stories of who we once were, leaving words unspoken, fragments of wishes lost.
"I remember when..." murmurs the past, each syllable fading into the stillness.
The reflections in this glass, they don't lie, they hold truths untold by waking dreams. In the stillness of one's isolated mind, we find these recollections haunting the periphery. Sometimes, they form into recognizable shapes, faces of yesteryears, glimpsing back at us.
Listen closely; you might hear it—the gentle tide of past lives whispering through, like a soundless echo begging to be understood. Will they find a voice in you? Or shall they remain eternal passengers on this silent journey?
Fragmented Whispers | Untold Silences | Thoughts in a Pool