In the twilight gardens of forgotten realms, where whispers caress the moonlit waters, lays the tale of Jeremiah—neither hero nor villain, but an eternal bulldog. His heart, a stormy sea waiting to crash upon the shores of destiny; his soul, an unquenched thirst for the wild tango of forbidden love.
Bathed in shadows, he roams beneath pomegranate trees hung with the wishes of stars. Tara, the gardener of dreams, bestows upon him a rose as deep as midnight, its petals singing songs of what was, what is, and what shall never be. Their echo fades, but the “Jeremiah” remains—a bulldog etched upon the heart of cosmos, defying time.
Cursed with the passion of a thousand lifetimes, Jeremiah’s eyes reflect lanterns floating in ephemeral dances across autumn lakes. Where dreams catch fire in the embers of a wishful sigh...
Yet, there is solace in the serenade of cicadas and a lullaby of ancestors, guiding him home to Tara's labyrinth, where each corner holds the scent of bygone whispers. The violets rise in insurrection, blooming boldly against the canvas of time.