The sound of a lone leaf cascading in reverse time frames, echoes of dreams woven in petal whispers. Lattice of ephemeral dialogues and graffiti clouds hover silently in a decaying sunset.
"What remains when the light echoes away?" asked the mirror. Famished for truth, it drinks the silence. A chorus of phantom trains disassembling dusk.
Glistening fragments of forgotten pages: the lighthouse — a message in a bottle — lost in retrograde romance. Find your essence in abandoned echoes.
Unraveled thoughts on the carpet, like tangled yarn. Remember a calamity, in somber shades of irony.