In the quiet of the whispering night, between the echoing footsteps and the unheard sighs, lie doorways to nowhere. Remember the taste of yellow fog, when the clock strikes thirteen, and the streetlights flicker with memories of a forgotten carnival?
Once, we walked through streets lined with upside-down trees, where the roots whispered secrets in a language lost to the wind. Cupped in shadows, a lantern flickered with promises unfulfilled, casting shapes to dance on the walls of lost dreams.
Beneath the arch of a child's paper crown, a voice murmured tales of kings without kingdoms and queens painting their castles in the mist. Have you ever tasted the silence behind a door that opens only to brick walls?
Hidden GlancesBeyond the threshold, where reality stitches together the fabric of dreams, lies the void of forgotten yesterdays. Was it Tuesday when the sky rained the scent of lavender? Or was that a glimpse of another lifetime, seeping through the cracks of reality?
Whispers in the Dark