In the heart of a celestial zephyr, where time dilates like a ship's sail upon the void, dreams whisper tales of forgotten epochs. These vestiges of thought wander the electric labyrinth, seeking solace amidst the flickering shadows. An old clock... sewing needles poised to weave stories across the fabric of the cosmos. Here, reality transmorphs, bending like reeds in an endless stream.
In such dreams, one may uncover the vestigial whispers of clockwork angels, their wings rusted by the passage of light. They sing in forgotten tongues, harmonizing the melody of ancient machinery and the soft rustle of time’s unwritten pages. The dioramas of dreams... a stage on which the marionettes dance with threads woven from moonlight and the laughter of bygone epochs.
Turn Back Time | The Dance of Pullies