Among the ambiguous shadows, a fabric threads the light, sewing frayed edges of yesterday's dust into cloaks of shimmering dust motes. The dreams linger, fracturing thought's linear path.
Seek the uncharted, where light dances within shadows, and echoes of laughter linger on the fabric of twilight. Is the water cold, or are the footsteps lost in brittle leaves?
Like clouds that slip through fingers, we hold what eludes our grasp, an ever-receding feather. Must we acknowledge the veil, or tangle silently, arm in arm with our half-formed reflections?
Traverse across the void to feel—the unseen. Even the silence speaks in cryptic verses echoing from below.