Karma Calling.

Spirits bite, the cold of night, the deepest depths resound, the noises are creating, what in sight can move a sound. Detached in reason to be found, and bound upon receipt, the voices in the darkest whispers carry their deceit. Illusions set within the midst, improvements will install, the light forsakes, the dreams of late the moonlight will implore. The stars conceived upon mirage, in image of intent, provide the doors the light ignores, and avenues invent.