Begin at the point where sunsets are postcards, lost thoughts in dusty drawers of twilight dreams.
Nine thousand rainbows diluted in moonlit ink, whisper your name into the heart of time.
Choice is but an echo, see it carve spectres of infinity.
A transient combination unlocks a thousand doors, each swinging inwards, into hollow visions.
Was it a mistake to speak?
Waves crash on digital shores, repainting chance in powdered starlight.
Footfalls, cascading through empty corridors. An echo in search of itself, fragments calling out from across an unseen distance.
The empty calculus of promises, written in sand, dissolved by an unread embrace.
The clock ticks once, twice, thrice...
Distant reflections in mirrored oceans ripple away, further away—forever a first impression.