The path through the meadow is whispered in a language only seen at dusk. Children, embrace the shadows of giants that never were.
“Will you play with my soul?” spoke the void, in tones only echoes understand.
Lost watches tick backwards, each follower of time laughing as the future erases the past. Clockwork won't sleep because dreams can't die.
Wander the Newtonian wonderland, where gravity plays tricks, and the ground rolls away underfoot, a child's game gone mad.
Realities blur like a smudge on a canvas of tomorrow. Paint the night in colors you cannot name, each shade a fragment of a forgotten tale.
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