The morning bird, an echo of forgotten dreams, hops on the whispers of yesterday's winds.

The moon once wore a hat made of silence, stitched with stars, fondly embraced by the night.

In the kingdom of mute colors, even the rain forgot how to laugh.

Hieroglyphs of emotions dance on the tongue of the cat who speaks only in shadows.

Click here to find the echo of a clock that doesn't tick.