the red sea whispers secrets in the green calm when the yellow sun catches in the blue wave leaving purple shadows on the golden sands of time bending back upon itself like an orange wheel of fortune spinning yet never moving forward
listen, the color speaks silently echoing through the lungs of the earth can't you feel it breathe stained with hues of melancholy and joy, symbiotic in its contradictions—where emptiness is a full canvas and whispers paint louder than a riot of silence
have you tasted the azure breeze brushing across the crimson lips of dusk? it speaks of tomorrow's yesterday wrapped in neon paradoxes lighting up the shadows of unseen whispers...
yellows blend into greens abstract thoughts articulating the language of an era forgotten maybe remembered in someone else's fleeting dream in a kaleidoscope of patterns
and the wheels of fate painted grey in twilight soft symbiotic paradoxes where every hue is one, and the silent scream is heard. We are echoes. Echoes