Lost Lullabies

In the twilight before the dawn, where dreams weave tapestries of what was and what could never be, there lies a whisper of the ancients, humming softly beneath a sky painted with the remnants of fading stars.

Do you remember the lullabies of the forgotten? Hidden beneath layers of dust and time, they echo through corridors of memory, waiting for the touch of an eager listener. The melody like a wisp of smoke, twisting and curling, fading into the ether.

The clock ticks on, inexorably. Minutes stretch like shadows cast by a sun that never rises. Do you hear it? The song that never belonged to you, yet feels like home. Its notes shimmer like ripples in a moonlit pond, each a fragment of a world unseen.

The lullabies were never for the waking world. Their magic thrived in the spaces between breaths, where silence speaks louder than words. Once, they rocked the universe in a cradle of starlight, now they sing for an audience of one.