As the clock chimed the hour, a melody lingered in the air, merging time with melancholia. The voices of past selves harmonized, and emptied echoes filled the room with absence, shining forth an ironic beauty.
Fragments of thoughts drift casually beside static silence, lingering on the edge of comprehension, evaporating like vapor in twilight—a dance of unrealized dreams.
The limbs of creation stretch towards the limitless sky, yet also towards the caverns of regret. All in one gleaming instant of fleeting decisions; have you tasted the bitterness of clarity?
To dance, who leads? And in response to ambiguities, what winds whip the thread of certainties into knots? In a world resounding like broken glass, each footstep becomes a sentence, each breath a crescendo.
Cascades of Confusion Reflections in Dissonance