Whispers
nursery echoes, silenced cradle.
In the moonlit room, whispers lingered like delicate mist. The nursery walls whispered secrets of laughter and love, but the cradle remained silent, untouched by tiny hands. Its lullabies unheard, its gentle sway unappreciated. The dreams that once danced within the crib were hushed, buried in the depths of an unfulfilled longing. The empty cradle stood as a poignant reminder of the love that never had a chance to bloom. Only the echoes of what could have been whispered softly, trapped in the corners of the nursery, forever longing for release. Whispers: nursery echoes, silenced cradle.
About the Creator
Mark Geriko Bucaling
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Faith Tested, Faith Restored
"Hello, brothers. I’ve been neglecting my faith for 6 years now as I lost belief in it. Recently I’ve been motivated to start all over again, but I can’t get the doubt rooted in atheism out of my head. Started off with loosing a loved person way too soon and as the time passed I fell deeper into the rabbit hole of nihilism and instant gratification, explaining my overindulgence in shallow activities, finding myself in a spot where I’m disgusted with myself. I’ve noticed just recently how low I’ve fallen. Would you have any advice on how to retrieve faith that was once strong? Thanks a lot in advance." — Jakub Piecyk
By Mark Geriko Bucaling10 months ago in Fiction
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