The echoes of whispers orchestrate.
Patterns resembling dreams align, align...
In the chapel of forgotten velvet hues, secrets are folded like origami birds.
Time ceases, unspools, and weaves anew; through cognitive beyonds which gleam in twilight's embrace.
Sky mirrors ocean mirrors abyss of potential.
Between the lines of spoken silence lie galaxies of thought, unaware of their vastness until touched by reflection.
Winds of remembrance sweep through the halls of ephemeral wonders.
Crimson ink stains the veils that shield revelation's dawn.
Conscious drifting on oceans of subconscious tides, riding the waves of absent skies.
Such are the depths of dreams, held by the tender hand of longing's touch...