In the velvet dark, whispers become untangled threads of silence, interwoven with echoes of the past. Each thought a knot, each knot a universe of stars and shadows unspoken. What is the true essence of these tangled musings, if not the reflection of a mind in search of peace?
Silent screams resound within the corridors of the heart, where memories linger like ghosts. Each step forward finds solace in the unwritten, and the shadows dance to the rhythm of untold stories. Is there solace in surrender, or is the infinite tangle a testament to resilience?