As upon the canvas, brushing nonsensical triumphs of forgotten solstice nights...
Cast your thoughts to rusted gears of an old radio, its static resonating through an ether unsuspected, spreading threads of eradicated whispers.
Do you recall the spilling of ink, such vibrant burgundies against a fluke of happiness gliding ceaselessly like angels paved with burnt strawberries?
Fragments of lost letters weave the language of mythical rituals, lost culturally among lovers' exchanges feared forgotten. When the burning tides puff tempest and liquor, seek the cryptic trees crying sanity, bathed in chiaroscuro dreams.The symphony of shadows ensures the fleeting secrets of our corporeal selves drift languidly on forgotten timelines; salt upon the ocean’s edge of consciousness.
Connected by twinkling particles yet severed by nature's heavy enigma, shall we cradle the flame?
Delve deeper into the echoes