In the dim light of dawn, where shadows linger like whispered secrets, I find your echo replaying in the corridors of my heart. A melody not meant for the ears, but for the soul—an aria composed in the key of longing.
Each heartbeat, a letter in the eternal epistle of us. Each pause, a comma in the endless sentence where hope and despair dance in a waltz of eternity. Can you hear it? The symphony of silence, calling out your name like a forgotten password to a treasure untold.
.-.. --- -. --. --. --- -. .-.-.- . -.-. --- ...- .-.-.-
... .. .-.. . -. -.-. .- .-.-.- -... . .- .-. - .-.-.-
Decode me, should you dare. Or let the words fall softly like petals in the wind, never to reach their destination. They speak of a distant shore, where the sun kisses the ocean goodnight, and the stars write our names in the sky.
Take a breath, and follow the path of echoes: