Among the fields, where silence burgeons and the winds dare not tread, lies the tapestry of whispered melodies—a cacophony unfelt by light's embrace.
Beneath the umbra of solemn oaks, where shadows weave trickster souls, resides a hymn unsung, untold, reverberating among hollow trellises and moonlit reveries.
Cinder
What secrets linger in those yawning dark depths, where sorrows clutch at fragments of dawn? What unsung choir weeps through nights ethereal?
Wander these whispering fields, if you dare. Touch their fabric spun from silken dusk. And listen… here, there.