In the cavernous shade of the moonlit night, where whispers cling to the aroma of rain-drenched leaves, lies a melody half-remembered. A rhythmic echo of liquid silver, cascading from the lips of ancient trees, calling forth forgotten dreams to dance in the cool mist.
As the ethereal choir of stars holds their silent vigil, a lone figure wanders through the sylvan chorus, each step an elegy to the countless reveries woven into the fabric of time. The path, scattered with twilight dew, leads unerringly to the heart of a midnight garden, resplendent with flowers that sing in hues of unseen colors.
Beneath the boughs, where shadows waltz upon the grass, the air thickens with the scent of blooming nostalgia. Here, the ephemeral dance of light and shadow reverberates, a symphony hidden in the mundane murmur of life. It serenades the lost rhythm, an eternal waltz forgotten by the waking world, yet remembered by the soul of the earth.
Do you not hear? The soft murmur beckons... a call to the unfathomable depths where the forgotten dreams lay asleep. Awaken, they whisper, and let the rhythm reclaim you. Let the night wrap you in its tender embrace, a lover of timeless grace.
Echoes of the Cascade