Echoes flutter away, chasing shadows of forgotten oh-so-impassioned debates, symbiotic symphonies of silence, the questing sound-vs-sight. They seem, and are not, searching yet caught in the perpetual loop, harmonizing dissonance, wherever it goes, there is always a mirage near.
Dreams laced with strands of reality... have you found the invisible path beneath the tapestry of whispering leaves? Step forward and unravel the paradox.
Beware the voids that arise, in our labyrinth, echoing one's shadow till merged as twins in the mist.