Prompt

A single, selferoding column of solidified wind stands at the center of a vast, still canyon carved not by rivers, but by the absence of sound in a world where silence is a physical force. The column does not decayit unbreathes, each fissure releasing a slow, reverse current of air that once carried unspoken names, their phonemes reforming into translucent, crystalline letters that float like dandelion seeds in a vacuum. The canyon is not rockit is a layered expanse of petrified wind currents, each stratum etched with the thermal residue of a whisper that never reached an ear, its walls glowing with the faint, bioluminescent afterimage of a voice that was never meant

Ai Model

FT Ai

Share

HTML Code