In the drifting haze of twilight, serenades whisper the story of an invisible quest, the restless dance of shadows across pale walls—a lullaby woven with passion, echoing in eternity.
Stranger dreams alight upon silken veils, within the geometry of noises—a silent architecture composed of moonbeams and lingering star echoes. Would you, forlorn poet, give luster to the shades that haunt fragile slopes of velvet dark?
If only love had a voice, she would weep in soft nocturne as violet specters twine an endless caress. Each sound, a footprint, pirouetting through mind's hallways like tender embraces of spectral symphony.
Ephemeral Touchstones