The echoes linger, softly, weaving through the void's embrace. Stars blink, then vanish, swallowed by the ink of nothingness. Here, in the silent depths, dreams whisper secrets untold. Shadows fold into themselves, cradling the moments when time dared not flow.
Moonlit paths lead to forgotten shores, where the tide sings in monotones, a lullaby of the forsaken. Each wave a memory washing against the silence of eternity. The sand, coarse with regrets, forms patterns that speak of twilight and oblivion.
Voices emerge from the depths, a choir of the lost souls. They intertwine like vines over ancient ruins, binding the present with fragments of the past. In this surreal landscape, time is a mere shadow, cast by the light of forgotten dreams and distant echoes.