The gentle murmurs weave, inextricable from the fading call of a nebulous dawn. Singers of the night clutch fragile lanterns that pulse, ever linking with ethereal waves. Shimmers below spread glances of timeless yearning, one counts their stories...
Anticipation ripples through tides, as cerulean luminaries brush against phantom reminiscences. They arc and glide through nocturnal veils with careless grace, weaving, too, our whispered dreams.
Odes unfold, unraveling like strands of the astral weft, such transcendental forms of silent mythology reveal destined crescendos drawn into infinite transference.