Ethereal Truths

Whispers dart like moths towards eternal flame. The ground trembles but the sky remains solid, a truth encased like forgotten yesterdays.

Reflection, the mirror speaks in riddles, her voice a glass that cuts deep yet heals through the blood of glassy memories. Looping, ever adapting time.

Count the stars in day, they linger not visible but all-encompassing, a blanket worn by existence knitting destinies in sleep.

Disguise of the Illusory treads quietly, as shadows paint the truths with colors invisible in wakefulness.

Voices call from depths of lucid dream, a song repeated ad infinitum, reverberating the sound of one future unfolding a myriad pasts.

Beyond the tangible, a specter's dance, fluid and graceful, pirouetting on the edge of Hollow Fabric, timeless.

Listen closely, for beneath the sound lies the silence of beginning and end whence all truth lies chained in ethereal majesty.