In the silence, before the dawn, when shadows cease their dance, whispers of ancient dreams linger. Echoes of a world forgotten, woven in the fabric of twilight's embrace.
Once, in the realm of slumber, a figure clad in raven feathers murmured secrets to the stars. The constellations, ever watchful, nodded in solemn agreement, guarding the mysteries of the ages.
As the night fades, a lone candle flickers in the forgotten corridors of time. Its flame dances to a melody only the darkness understands, a serenade for the lost souls adrift in the sea of the waking world.
Do you hear the whispers? They speak of light that pierces the veil, of dawn breaking over the horizon, yet offering no solace, only the stark reality of a new day.