In the echoing halls of silence, twisted notes coalesce, dreams linger like smoke, waltzing within the interstices of reason. Reflections whisper melodies brewed in the depths of somnolent valleys, where thoughts flutter like fragile wings, unbridled by time. The starry canvas absorbs their essence, intricate patterns dissolving into the cosmos.
Sudden gusts of clarity unveil obsidian riddles wrapped in soft murmurs. Skeletons of bygone conversations reverberate—a continuum caught within the tapestry of an everlasting night. What song is unsung, hidden behind the horizon’s embrace? What shadows of sentiments weave between the verses of polår mornings built on forgotten rhythms?