House of Murmur

Ethereal whispers follow the trickling reeds. Time melts into whispers over lost waters. Which reflections hold tales of your past, present, unwritten futures?

The glazed spectrum Waiting endlessly. Would you gaze into translucent eyes?

Walk into the vaporous embrace Curtains of Language Fluctuating spectacles

Doubt creates doorways undefinable yet within reach. They jest with thy resolve, in camouflaged truths. Has thy soul yet dazed within these primeral dreams?