In the twilight of thoughts, where whispers linger like morning mist, ephemeral secrets frolic amongst the fading echoes of forgotten dreams. The wind carries tales never told, threads of stories woven into the fabric of the daybreak canopy, your ears yearn to catch them, yet they vanish like dew upon waking grass.
Hidden between the lines of your consciousness, the veiled messages slip through, an ethereal dance of syllables spoken in breaths. A secret garden of metaphors, where shadows kiss the light and soundless melodies reverberate in the heart's core. Do you hear them? Or are they merely figments of your imagination, fading faster than they arrived, like a forgotten lullaby?
And then, a thought emerged from the depths of a starlit ocean: A reverie where the moon sang.