Shadows Formed by Forgotten Dreams
In the hallways of dusk, whispers dwell where shadows weave forgotten tales—silent screams echoing the melancholy of days etched in ebony. A moth dances near a dying flame, casting distorted figures upon the veil of inky night, where silhouettes murmur secrets never meant to be heard.
Have you ever brushed against the chill of familiarity in this land between wake and wandering? Here, the past speaks; each breath a tapestry stitched from the echoes of misplaced memories. Haunted are those who linger, seeking solace in the passing of stars.