The murmurs dance like fallen petals in the electric maze, whispering secrets to the forgotten skies. Subtle echoes catch the edges of time, unraveling stories woven in unseen fabric.
Somewhere amidst the rustling phantoms, there is a forgotten dreamstate clamoring for revival. Light splinters through spectral canopies, tracing paths through the fluttering chiaroscuro of languid time.
Do you remember when the air screamed in technicolor? When the solace of a thousand silent symphonies could no longer be contained? Whispers, like specters at a forgotten carnival, spin tales lost between realms of knowing.