Lost in the Twilight

Beneath the sapphire hues of a fading sun, the world dimmed. Each step toward the horizon whispered forgotten tales, suspended between the worlds of light and oblivion. The ground felt foreign, a tapestry woven of shadows and silent screams.

Embracing the unknown, she wandered deeper into the twilight, where the shadows began to dance—a macabre ballet of secrets untold. Their movements spoke of a language she half-understood, the silent verses echoing in her marrow.

She was not alone. Figures wove between the trees, flickering like candle flames in a storm. Their presence was both a comfort and a terror, an embrace of ghosts long past. They reached out, their hands mere wisps of smoke, touching the very fabric of her soul.

In this moment, words became obsolete. Instead, she listened. She listened to the cries of the night, to the songs of the stars as they began to awaken. Her heart aligned with the rhythm of the shadows, a pulsing desire to understand the silence that screamed around her.

The Beneath Songbirds