The Warmth of Fading Echoes
There are whispers beyond the hollow glow, tales once familiar as summer's parting sigh, now shrouded in the soft silver mist of dusk.
In these timeless spaces, we find the ghosts of laughter twirling in the melancholy air, tracing patterns in the restless light.
Severed links to once-glorious adventures linger here, untouched and yearning, like autumn leaves calling to the winds of a forgotten spring.
The unreality pulses beneath, vibrant and secretive, weaving through tenebrous memories—embracing and releasing their faded hues.