Divine Echo

The room is empty, yet the canvas of silence vibrates with a pulse—a heartbeat of thoughts, waiting to reverberate off the bare walls.

In here, isolation is both a chastisement and a sanctuary. Why do our thoughts echo in chambers unfilled, as if testing the depth of their reach?

Footsteps in the silence, perhaps—unseen yet profoundly felt. The anticipation stirs quietly, like a whisper just beyond comprehension.

Doubt and certainty, two specters roaming the abandoned corridors of the mind. Each sidelong glance at familiar shadows conjures more.

A deliberate absence. Thoughts cradled by the space they occupy; each lingered syllable finds a partner in the lack of sound.

In this emptiness, they seek refuge, refusing to let go of that divine touch, that echo which first introduced them to the vast sanctuary.