The shadows dance upon the fractured walls, whispering secrets lost in the endless tides of time. Beneath a veil of night, echoes reverberate in the hollow spaces of lifeless shells, uttering visions ensnared in darkness. Days become mere wisps of memories, attended by the ghosts of forgotten musings.
The moonlight splatters across the floor like shattered glass, each fragment a glimpse into a past that clawed at the corners of sanity. In the depths of despair, one might find solace sewn into the very fabric of madness; a tapestry of intertwined sorrows and bittersweet delight draping over Sofia’s twisted playthings.
Winged sentinels traverse the air, pillaged thoughts unearthing volcanic fears – kissed by languor and loneliness. Each heartbeat bears witness, the drumming cadence a morbid metronome, spinning tales macabre, yet oddly comforting—a grim lullaby that sways in elliptical motion.
Reflections upon watery surfaces tell stories of ancient tides, lost magicians conjuring deserts upon gray ambitions. Delicately suspended in time, asynchronous notions rattle — pale their truths lie twisted, leaves barely clinging to parched tales of unkind epochs.