In the deepest corners of night, where silence swells and breathes, lies an oracle of whispered dreams. Beneath its veil, echoes of forgotten memories linger.
Do you remember the sound of rain on old rooftops, the melody wrapped in solitude and time? It plays a symphony in the heart of those willing to listen.
The oracle speaks not in words but in feelings, a tapestry woven from the threads of past and present. There, between the fibers, truths are hidden like stars in a hazy sky.