With the waning hour comes the whisper of dreams untold. Who speaks to the shadows if not the sun's forgotten glow?
As the clock ticks into the abyss, there lies a tranquility in unanswered questions. Taste the bittersweet nibbles of solitude. Ephemeral truths scattered like stars in a midnight canvas beckon.
Shadows dance tales of fleeting yesterdays on walls, where sunlight cannot grasp. Do these shadows hold conversations with the moon? Reflections of inner wars held quietly beneath a serene facade.
What slips through the fingers: desires, fading like the last ember in dreams. Hold them as they unravel. Listen to the sundown melodies that sigh across empty spaces.
The night chews thoughtfully on morsels of joy, despair, and everything in between. Midnight nibbles—what do you savor?