Upon the twilight's embrace, I recall the crimson stars bleeding shadows upon the whispering winds. In the bark of old elm trees, I could hear the murmurs of forgotten lullabies, etched by hands that no longer linger upon this blessed earth. A trinket's flash, silver and blue, caught amid the waltz of autumn leaves... where's that worn velvet box, once promised to hold dreams untold?
Stretching towards inevitable silence, corridors in yonder French estate reminisce about midnight conversations—some known only to the swaying chandeliers and the cicadas' deliberate symphony. Oh, if those gilt-thread tapestries could unravel their riddles under the moon's silvery gaze... but did we ever wish to understand?
Join me amidst this garden's whorls, where the recent past and distant future build bizarre castles in dust and dew. Here, crawling vines spell love letters upon crumbling stone archways, their meaning buried under petals, drunk from wine spills within ivy-clad ballrooms.
Chart anew, wandering heart Distant echoes that yearn for touch