In the silent corridor of night, where the stars weave whispers across the moon's silver veil, I trace echoes of your name. Each syllable, a brush of tender unrest, lingers in the velveteen air. My heart, a clandestine symphony, plays its dissonant harmonies—a love not spoken, yet so profoundly felt.
Your eyes, twin galaxies in the expanse of an ordinary gaze, reflect the hidden landscapes of my soul. In their depths, I find universes yet unnamed, constellations of unsaid promises—and within those stars, the haunting echo of your phantom touch.
Beyond the horizon, where the ocean kisses the sky in a tumult of color, lies the secret lighthouse. It guards the dreams we never dared to share, casting beams across the fog of unexpressed truths. Will you follow its light, or remain adrift in the reverie of what might have been?
Concealed Whispers