Forgotten Sentiments
In the periphery of consciousness where the echoes reside, lies the steady pulse of thoughts unanchored. There's a whispering, familiar yet distant, akin to wind through rustling leaves.
Fleeting glances of forgotten aromas, trapped in sunlit corridors, tethered only by the scent of impending rain. Herein lays an archive of fragmented truths woven from the inherence of quiet daylight.
Nothing is ever truly quiet, especially when it hums melodically—a siren coaxing tears from the shadows of faded memories. As the cognizance dims, the intricacies of emotion scatter like dandelion seeds...
The past, a gently sloping interlude, waltzes in synchronicity with silent musings. They say that time is a mere sieving device, yet its sands slip silently, forming ephemeral castles only lovers would remember.