Within the shadow of stars, the whispered hearts linger long after... echoes of voices that never knew their names etched in moonlight, fading like remnants of dreams forgotten in the dawn's embrace.
Once, they danced upon silver screens, ephemeral figures in borrowed time, their laughter a silent symphony lost beneath the crashing waves of reality.
Do their shadows still walk among us, wrapped in the cloaks of what ifs and might have beens? A question posed too many times over coffee in dim cafés or whispered prayers in abandoned chapels.