Ephemeral Drift

In this dark garden, thoughts are suspended in amber, like wicked insects caught in timeless resin.

The cold wind carries whispers of bygone shadows, hinting at tales never told, places never seen.

A solitary raven perches on a withered tree, watching over secrets that slip through the fingers of oblivion.

Whispered Secrets

Eternity's breath lingers here, where silence weeps under the weight of truth.

The world outside is a distant echo, a murmur in the void, uninvited and unremembered.