In the twilight of forgotten dreams, reality wavers, ghostly fingers tracing the contours of what could have been. Fathomless depths conceal the language of echoes; the phantom limb yearns for touch.
A melody played on a broken record resonates through time, each note woven into the very tapestry of our existence, beckoning us to remember the fleeting touch of a smile.
A chalice of starlight invites you to drink from the depths of clarity. What do you see when you peer into your own shadows?
Cross the threshold and entangle further, seek the assembly beyond the echoes.Gathered wisps from lost conversations sit heavy in the air, lingering with quiet urgency.
Chase the storm, but be wary of the precipice. Do the clouds descend into the abyss?