Once wrapped in the whispers of twilight's embrace, the stars sang a lullaby constructed of ancient pollen and the soft sighs of forgotten coal. A melody witnessed by no ears, but understood by the heartbeat of silken shadows drifting over the fissured landscape.
Somewhere, on the journey between dusk and dawn, a lantern flickered in the grey abyss, casting its fragile glow on the porcelain trees; their leaves dripped with ephemeral rain that crystallized into dreams on contact with the ground.
Have you ever walked where the sky flirts with the desire to be solid? To touch the golden slip of horizon merging with the lavender dusk? Paths intertwine, unraveling like the threads of a story half remembered, half imagined.