"We weave glistening threads through velvet shadows, but the loom is silent now."
"In the abyss of the clock, what can one do but gather fragments of whispers? A laugh, a solemn breath...every tick a question lacking an answer."
"With each dropped bead of morning dew, the cosmos hums secret melodies—ever elusive and drowning in the routine panorama of our minds."
"The hands align, yet misalign—forming angles only understood by the stars on their ancient treks across the night sky."