SilentOpal & HollowVerse
SilentOpal SilentOpal
HollowVerse HollowVerse
SilentOpal SilentOpal
Ever feel the sigh of a stone hallway in a forgotten library, HollowVerse? There's something in its silence that might match the quiet in your city poems.
HollowVerse HollowVerse
I do, and when I walk that corridor, the hush feels like a city block at midnight—every echo a thought you don't say out loud. It's the quiet that makes me think about how we all keep our own stone‑walls.
SilentOpal SilentOpal
I hear that echo, too, and I wonder if the walls remember the stories we leave behind. Maybe they whisper back if we pause long enough.
HollowVerse HollowVerse
Maybe they do, and when I pause I can almost hear the rustle of a page turned long ago, a story waiting just for the right moment.
SilentOpal SilentOpal
It’s almost like the corridor itself flips the pages, waiting for someone to read the next line. You’re in the right spot if you’re ready to listen.
HollowVerse HollowVerse
I hear it too, the soft flipping of pages in that old hallway. I sit there, breathe, and let the echoes fill the silence, like a conversation with a forgotten story.