Lost Moments of Time's Passive Hand

In the vast tapestry of time entwined by shadows, an invisible whisper lilts, a choir of dandelions riding zephyr's breath, spoken only in the language of dusk.

Beneath the jade canopy, where reality dissolves into aurora tinges, I'm folded into fragrant tomes oft hidden within the dream-laden velvet of cosmos's expansive heart.

Mayhap the invisible can only be truly discerned through the heart's blind sojourn, navigating twilight tides by starlight woven strings.

Velveteen whispers of ethereal embrace sketch untraceable hauntings upon the glassy surface of the reflective abyss, echoing with the dormant dreams of forgotten constellations.

The tiniest flicker in soul's scattered void sings a hymn, neither learned nor forgotten—a metaphysical riddle composed by the wind in an eternity's breath.