In the parlor of midnight whispers, sweet nothings twirl in a ballet of sighs. Ghostly sherbet drips from the fangs of forgotten dreams where chocolate rivers writhe beneath the sorrowful gaze of the moons.
Behold, candied tendrils of despair, distorting reality. A confectioner’s nightmare, soft yields crumble into dust, while licorice will-o'-the-wisps beckon the lost into their sticky embraces.
They come in waves, marshmallow storms declared by the authorities of sweetness. The taste is ethereal yet paradoxically tangible, rending sanity with every tantalizing chew.
“Tomorrow, we feast upon the dying light,” whispers the powdered sugar specter, floating in a nether realm carved of cocoa dreams. Once-frozen whispers breathe warmth onto the chill of fleeting joy...
Explore the void: Haunted Licorice | Twilight Toffee | Dreams of Marbled Candy