The Whispering Sands
As each grain of memory dances upon the
precipice of slumber, the void reverberates
with the sonorous laughter of yesterday's
joys. They are scattered, like morning dew
upon petals of soft mauve, shimmering with
the light of forgotten suns.
Here lies the echo of your name, penned upon the margins of unwritten pages, a specter o' the dreams not yet born. Listen, gently, to the sigh of those we almost became, reverently clutching their hands as the tether of time loosens, allow them to kiss your soul in tender remembrance.
Navigate through these fleeting vistas: perhaps the corridors of our willows have whispered tales more vivid than sleep! And should you follow the murmurs beneath the lavender mist, may your spirit discover realms yet uncharted, yet familiar to the heart...
Seek further, traveler:
Reflected Shadows | Fading Auroras
Here lies the echo of your name, penned upon the margins of unwritten pages, a specter o' the dreams not yet born. Listen, gently, to the sigh of those we almost became, reverently clutching their hands as the tether of time loosens, allow them to kiss your soul in tender remembrance.
Navigate through these fleeting vistas: perhaps the corridors of our willows have whispered tales more vivid than sleep! And should you follow the murmurs beneath the lavender mist, may your spirit discover realms yet uncharted, yet familiar to the heart...
Seek further, traveler:
Reflected Shadows | Fading Auroras