Floating in silence, a constellation trembles, woven threads of forgotten dreams form aching whispers, each bubble, a silent scream.
When the moon grins, fickle dreams pirouette, pondering love lost in a morning mist, pearls of night gleam faintly in the deep void.
Echoes meld in chromatic haze as we traverse labyrinthine thoughts; moonlight drips like honey, ephemeral sutures of wonder.
Can you hear the text unwind, pinning hopes beneath star-speckled skies?