In remnants of muted echoes, we dance on shadows, melodies stretched like dawn's first breath, kissed by twilight’s soft touch, a symphony backward, notes weaving whispers that smooth over our dreams. Whispers Adrift flutter in the night, penetrating stillness, like lovers' quarrels held tightly, trembling hands wrapped around necks of hallowed memories.
Each shadow a memory, wrapped in silken whispers, where silence speaks louder than the thunder's pulse, a reverse crescendo, tangled melodies tripped— love awakened, basking in the sighs of dusk, blushed suns embrace committing sepia-toned reveries. The Echoing Time vibrates through heartbeats lost in eclipsed corridors.
When the hourglass spills its sands, every moment captured, heartstrings pulled, sweet agony, loneliness ignited like stars, we chase a fleeting gasp, trembling wishes echoing, where dreams dare wander, footsteps retrace to forgotten dawns of yesterday, Twilight’s Grasp cradles our fading silhouettes.