Once, when the world was merely a tapestry of untold stories, the soul traversed the fabrics of existence. The void and the whisper shared a conversation, softly echoing through the corridors of time. What is the nature of connection when there are no eyes to see nor hands to touch? — A voice in the shadows pondered...
There are paths unwalked, destinies unmet, reverberations that linger in the silence of an empty room. Each moment whispers a secret to eternity, profound in its quietude, arcane in its simplicity. Does time heed to the silence, or does it yearn to listen to the echoes of an unvoiced thought?
Beneath the constellation of forgotten now, the heart remembers. An invisible thread winds its way through the labyrinth of being, charting a course that transcends the illusions of separation. Are we not all but artifacts of arcane whispers, drifting in a sea of intangible relation?
Silent Chronicles Ephemeral Dreams