Whispers echo, echo, beyond the horizon of sombre dreams; lovers lost in fog-soaked embraces—
do the stars cradle their silence?
By the rivers of forgotten sentiments, strands of moonlit threads weave the fabric of our musing souls, ripped yet sewn, longing for their other half.
As twilight brushes across canvases of existence, little echoes flitter...
Listen: its soft caress dances your heart taut against the strings of what never was, and echoes more profound than time
—moonlight beds you in satin dreams—tempting fingertips of passion brush against the night’s enticing gloom.
A pulse of memories; elusive hands comb through the shadows of faded schisms, drawing lines between what is, what might have been...
Dare to explore:
Embers of our desires linger, unfurl, and burn, illuminating the path along cosmic alleyways.