In the cocoon of silence, coercive winds dance, swirling ambers of forgotten whispers, holding hearts captive in woven threads, drawn from dreamland’s cradle.
Lagoon tides echo, orchestrating a symphony lost in undulating shadows, flaring electric sighs ripple—one heartbeat flowering futuristically bleak.
In the hourglass of rain, droplets cascade, marking each sepulchral echo with fleeting narratives, reflections wavering, as lost hopes of time reverberate endlessly, never to find the shore.
Haunted souls tread lightly on hints of nocturnal blooms; find, if you dare, the brigade of dreams morphed into fables trapped within murky veils. Shadows breathe stretched cries under the watch of moons unheard.
Dust meets broken glass; the mirror weeps at unreciprocated glances filled entwined existences pulled taut in misery's embrace. Was it joy once grasped?
Shifting cradles speak soft promises, shivering silk hollow strings resonate when time bleeds, the breath of yesterday holds today's gaze befuddled; endlessly darting unaware.
An echo reply: Where do longings drift, nested in whispers between what was and what remains?