The Great Maybe

In the Absence of Light

Where shadows dwell, whispers gather like forgotten tears. They clutch at the fabric of time,
weaving whispers into echoes, casting long silhouettes along paths unexplored. Do you see it?

The Great Maybe whispers back, an eternal nod—or perhaps a shake of its unseen head.
It beckons in smoky alleys of flickering candlelight and forgotten ink, affording glimpses of its
uncertain embrace.

Yet, step lightly—once the echoes are heard, they dance to rhythms unheard at twilight's door.
Listen gently. For the answer lies with the whisperers, intangible as mist over the still waters
of a darkened lake.

Seek further into the dark tapestry:
Solitude | Cryptic Voices | Dust of Time