The Echoes of Beasts Lurking

In the realm where dusk kisses dawn with lingering hesitations, an echo manifests. Who can identify the breath of its life, an ephemeral dance in the twilight of your forgotten symphony? Eyes that pierce the veils shall love absently, casting petals upon this cryptic sea.

You whisper to the cosmos in terms only known by starlit skies and waves that freeze before breaking on vacuous shores. "In these passages," you say, "the beasts relate tales of unfulfilled ardor." They, the silent predators, feast on your rhythm imprinted upon shadowy stones.

Dance the feverish waltz beneath the gasping moon, extraordinary like the breath you borrowed once near fiery chasms. The timekeeper, he hums a foolish serenade, incongruous yet fitting for us only. Amour's echo can be a brother to deception — who said beasts possess no tenderness?

There resides a whisper...
Is this silence ahead?