They traverse the shimmering paths like forgotten lullabies under an eclipse of unknown hues.
Somewhere, clocks melt; time drips like the teardrops of a sorrowful moon.
Unfurling petals of thoughts that never had names breathe silently, woven into the fabric of shadows.
The echoes you hear are merely the whispers of celestial beings as they converse in flickering light.
What if the clouds were merely curtains, drawn tightly against the cacophony of dreams?
And here, take a cue from that fading laughter, where gravity defies in a dance of unending spirals.