Soft echoes caress the fabric of tomorrow. The shadows speak in languages forgotten, yet their syllables dance vividly across the blank canvas of existence. In realms unseen, threads of golden silence weave into coherent harmony.
Within the hollow corridors of time, voices linger unattended, beckoning from clocks that never ticked. Each moment a sigh, each sigh a song, yet who hears them now amidst the din of our electric cries?
Contemplate the phantoms of empathy, caught in webs of distant thoughts, reflecting worlds unadjusted in perception. Is it reality or mere figments of a timeless reminiscence? Our opening eyes speak. Blink once for dreams, twice for reality.
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