In the twilight, where echoes linger longer than shadows, a whisper reaches forth—a hand unseen, yet felt in the gentle touch upon the mind's brow.
Remember the stars that once weaved stories across the void? They flicker still, though the tales have slipped between the slipping sands of time.
The colors of your dreams—the hues of old realities mingled with new wishes—paint the silent canvas that is your journey.