In the corridors where moonlight whispers, songs linger. They stretch like threads woven into the fabric of dreams. Silent songs, forgotten, yet echoing softly in the crannies of the soul.
"The piper plays beneath the willow," said the shadow to the mist, "yet the tune remains unheard by waking ears." A melody lost on the winds of yesteryears, where once it danced, now only silence accompanies the refrain.
Chase the light
Listen to the shadows
Weep with the dawn
Threads entwined, fate binding, unbinding... In the realm of the half-awake, the world hums its silent symphony.