In the penumbra of whispers cast long upon the storied shadows of the silent sea, a lone figure wandered the gothic ruins lost; among the crumbling stone and shattering glass, endless echoes of silence clutched the fringes of the midnight air.
Drifting, as moths in search of extinguished stars, dreams wrapped in ochre decay and thoughts unfurling in fractal patterns of ethereal feather — monstrous secrets languished in the lucid depths of twilight slumber, yearning for solace amidst the chaos.
An eerie cadence pulsed through these long-forgotten byways, a resonant dirge in tones of cobalt dark, each note a tender gulp of salty memory, submerged in the abyssal dusk where sirens once resided free and phantom upon phantom entwined fate in an eternal waltz of loss embraced by the solitude of time.
Hold your lament, for within lies the resonance.