Whispers in the Whirlwind

In the quietist turmoil, words are spoken.
Invisible gusts caress understanding with buried calls.

Does the wind carry your name, calling into eternity?
Each silent scream dismantles assurance, reconstructing solace in echoes unheard.
The universe sighs, a chorus of hushed laments weaving the fabric of thoughts never born.
Questions linger like clouds obscuring dawn, shadows patching the light of comprehension.

What stories does the gwaine breath imprint upon us, as we wander through their whispered tapestry?
[A murmurous labyrinth of words, anticipated by those who challenge silence. Secrets unfurl.
Yet, fear not the void as it tightens its grip; find it an unexpected sanctuary, welcoming the unvoiced.]

Journey further: Lost Echo | Mirage of Sound