In the gentle caress of dusk, the moon murmurs secrets to the stars. Our shadows dance on the water's edge, echoing a lover's embrace far removed from the mundane breath of dawn.
Beneath ancient arches where the garden wildflowers dream—
Voices like honey drape over your heart; yearning like songbirds trapped in an ivory tower.
Rust and lavender—a tapestry woven with reminiscences of splendor forgotten and the cruel turn of wind.
Hold my whisper in your palm, cradle it with care...
Do you tread softly on paths illuminated by starlit tears? Investigate further clandestine corridors: Beyond the Parasol's Glow