In the inkwell of forgotten towns, where laughter pirouettes with melancholy,
the cracks in the universe hum like a lost violin, seeking a spouse for its symphony.
Once, upon a pebble's throne, a jester wept pearls in the marketplaces of shadows,
bargaining with time itself for a moment of unchained mirth under the dancing moons.
And thus, the silent whispers of the cobbled streets unfurled ones and zeros,.
etching the names of forgotten loves and unwritten novels in the sky's ledger.
Between the stitches of night and the seam of dawn,
a clown sleeps under the quilt of stars, dreaming of tomorrow's wrinkle in time.