Paths lie before us—only in dreams do we glimpse their somber shadow. In the echoes of silent roads, decisions murmur, their voices fading like autumn leaves carried by a restless wind.
The forks in our journey, unseen and untouched, hold conversations in languages our hearts have long forgotten. To turn left at a branching moment, or to the right, reveals a dichotomy of possibilities, both cloaked in mystery.
Imagine stepping off into a void of not-yet-becoming, where every choice lingers suspended in a web of existential potential. Here lies the echo of roads not taken, an empty symphony of whereness.
Grasp the nebulous, milky ink of thought that flows beyond horizons uncharted. Scribe your destiny upon the canvas of yet-to-be with the intimacy of a cosmic dance. Reach the echoing silence, where whispered routes converge and diverge in a delicate balance—harmonious, yet haunting.