In dreams, the lighthouse stood steadfast, a monument to the fading dusk. How many stories anchored in its shadow?
The light pulses, a Morse code for souls adrift. Each flicker a reminder, or perhaps a question: What harbor do we seek?
Fragmented MemoriesUnwritten tales whispered in the language of shadows. There they linger, half-formed, like echoes of a forgotten song.
Untold SojournThe warmth of unwritten words rests upon blank papyrus, where destinies waver in the untold spaces of time.
A single breath ignites the storm, unraveling the silent tapestry of futures unseen.
Silhouettes of Tomorrow