Once the clock unwound, dreams unspooled like thread, in the tapestry of twilight,
Where echoes collide, cradling dissonance with gentle palms - do you hear the whispers,
A sliver of the moon hangs precariously, longing to slip through the wash of dusk.
Plunge into the depths of the infinite expanse, where silence sings in hushed tones,
Turn and twist, as fiction blooms beneath surfaces of cracked glass.
Each spectral pulse, a flicker of memory, resonating with the weight of abandoned feelings.
Chase the echoes of forgotten laughter