In the echo of the moon's sigh, a forgotten language emerges, whispered by the wraiths of yesterday.
Where shadows entwine like lovers in a cryptic dance, memory stitches the seams of what is and what was.
Words float like dust motes caught in candlelight, timeless thoughts that linger in the corners of your psyche.
Click here to follow the echoes
Is it all a symphony of chaos, or merely a reflection of the unspoken desires that haunt the dusk?
A riddle spins within the fabric of silence: Do the shadows ever speak, or do we merely listen?
Delve deeper, and one may find comfort in uncertainty, wrapped in the elusive whispers of fate.