Amidst the silken dawns, where whispers tremble on the cusp of unturned tomorrows, lies the echo of forgotten delights, places where the mind wanders and never returns.
Do you remember the carousel of lost thoughts?
It spins endlessly beneath the petrichor-streaked stars, with steeds of untamed reveries. There, moonlit shadows once danced to the tune of a bygone dream. Pause and listen, where the wind sighs like a weary traveler, and the ground hums softly.
Under the oak of a thousand whispers, a door waits, carved into the very essence of dusk. Its keys, mere glances exchanged at a starry meeting. Enter, should you find one that fits, into a realm where every moment is both now and forever.
Astonishingly, on the road you’ll find: