Lost echoes of a static breeze whisper tales woven into shadows, trapped beneath elusive dreams.
In a library of invisible words, the walls breathed a fragmented heartbeat, pulsating timeless secrets.
Glass butterflies flit through twilight memories, reflections cast in puddles of anticipation.
Tremors of nothingness unravel in vivid hues, where the sun forgets to paint the dawn.
Listen to the Whispers of Old Times... Descend into Murmurs of Fate...