"And the mountains whispered secrets to the forgotten ravens. They, carelessly, spread the word, which faded into the crimson haze," he thought.
Every star is a saga unwritten, a promise unmade, a tale untold. A road begins when no eyes dare see. Pasts, half-remembered, gelid in mirrors inked with time's sleepy gestures.
What if, every word you'd ever spoken collected in a jar? Shattered. Invisible fragments roam, dust suspended in light, memory once eavesdrops genuine breath flutters like a moth.
Fractal follies betray familiar fragrance—
Leaves drift through time, seasons weep softly into their golden veins—
Did you ever wonder—the constant quiet chaos of closed questions forged with smoldering ink against celestial ceilings, where echoes chase footsteps consumed, embers dull in frostbite?
Somewhere amid raindrops, maybe, dreams drop awake, learn anger's origin on foreign tongues whispering riddles known yet never said…