Whispering Fractals

Through the storied halls of yesterday where the cobwebs mimic lace and lullabies drift like leaves caught in cosmic wind.

They claimed the stars tasted of forgotten wine. The clock sang intermittently, chasing its own pendulum.

Why flies join dancers in the masques of silent streets remains an artwork unseen. It resonates beyond.

The rivulet murmurs—you listen, you leap. Confluence of Dreams.

Embark into the tapestry: Misplaced Chronicles.