Whispers from the Abyss

There’s a place beyond the edge of sight, where the shadows breathe and the air hums with secrets. I’ve felt it, that cold pull from the corners of reality, like a whispered invitation into something far older than time itself. The world we see is just a veil, and beneath it, the unknown stirs, restless and waiting.

I wonder if you’ve heard it, too—the silence that’s too quiet, the darkness that’s too deep. It’s in those moments, when the mind wanders and the heart skips a beat, that the Abyss calls. Not in words, but in a language felt in the bones, in the quiet that consumes and the cold that seeps in like a forgotten memory.

Do you fear the dark? Or do you embrace it, knowing it’s the only place where truth hides?

We spend so much time chasing the light, avoiding the inevitable touch of shadow. But there is beauty in the darkness, a beauty that comes not from what is seen, but from what is felt. The Abyss doesn’t need your eyes to see—it needs your soul to understand.