In the depths of night, where whispers cradle silence, a melody drifts. Its origin untraceable, its notes slip like silver rain through the veil of conscious thought. Forgotten symphonies, played by unseen hands, echo in the halls of memory.
The moon listens in stillness, a guardian of secrets untold. Stars blink in concordance, their distance not a barrier, but a bridge. Here lies the essence of songs woven from stardust, hushed by the dawn's gentle embrace.
What do these melodies sing? An answer lies where the forgotten are not lost, where dreams cling to reality like mist to the morning.
Whispered Portals