"In the mirror, truth dances with shadows."
There’s a story hidden in the folds of the morning light. It spills over the edges, tracing paths on floors as familiar as old friends. You wake up, and the silence speaks volumes. The sun pulls back a curtain, and I see you standing there, eyes searching for something, anything, to fill the void.
In the mirror, I see the reflection of days gone by—your laughter like shimmers on forgotten lakes. They ripple away, each wave carrying whispers of promises made under starlit skies, now marred by the weight of unspoken truths.
There are moments that stretch across time like bridges made of light. They connect fragments of moments that slip between our fingers like sand. Your hands reach out, but the mirror only shows what you cannot touch—a world alive with stories untold.