In the silence, a ripple stirs beneath the crystalline veneer, where dreams linger in currents unseen.

The glacial whispers weave tales, binding the echo to time's forgotten loop.

Resonate with the harmony forged in the depth, fleeting and inevitable.

An undercurrent of astral silence, unraveling the night.

In every breath, the mystery persists, a cycle—endless, surging.

The unfathomable cascade of time flows invisibly through you.

Touched by eons, tracing specters of light beneath shadows.

Perpetual echoes starched within the shroud of the dawn's white veil, whispering—never uttering.

Dreams, weaving the fabric of twilight's tender descent.