In the corridors of thought, where echoes seldom tread, a symphony of symptoms hum beneath the surface. Each vibration a testament to the things left unsaid, like messages trapped in glass, waiting for the right moment to break free, to be heard in their crystalline clarity.
Perhaps the voice you hear is not yours, but borrowed from the wind, weaving through the branches of yesterday’s dreams. It speaks of reveries both familiar and strange, a polyphony that ebbs and flows like the tide, each wave erasing footprints of doubt on the shores of the mind.
Resonant Empathy waits quietly, a specter in the haze of fragmented memory. Touch it lightly, and it will ripple across the canvas of existence, charting the unseen paths we might never take, yet somehow know by heart.
Observed from afar, the Transient Trust in our woven narratives flickers like candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the walls of solitude, illuminating the untold stories that linger just beyond reach.