Do you hear them? The gentle sighs of pages yearning for the caress of a lover's fingers, telling tales woven in the fabric of dusk and dreams. A spectral voice dances upon each fleck of ink, unraveling stories of souls adrift in the river of memory, longing for shores unseen.
I am but a shadow here, a mere echo amongst the echoes, tracing the tender outlines of desires unspoken, penning verses in my heart that never see the light of dawn. In this haven of whispering pages, I find a solace more profound than the embrace of reality: a world where love is as infinite as the starlit expanse.
Within these brittle confines, lies a truth wrapped in the scent of fading ink and the soft murmur of dreams—fragile, like the heartbeat of time itself. I remember her then—the fleeting glance, the touch of a hand that was never meant to linger, yet burned fiercely in its passing.
Explore these tales further, if your heart dares: Murmurs of the Heart | Dance of the Moon