Ticking is forgotten beneath veils of whispering metal dreams, shadowed realms rotate around silent gears, shrouded in the ghost's call; A spiral dance, a laughter of rust that echoes through the empty corridors of painted time. Bridges of light stretch over seas of dark thoughts, linking islands of hidden whispers.
They wind and unwind, these fragile enigmas of ticking precision, in dreams where clocks compose symphonies of lost memories. The straight lines bend in arcs, singing of paths taken by none but shadows who grasp the inky, palpable air.
Journey Into the Abyss Embrace the Silence