The Vitality of Dusted Dreams

In a realm where the ripples of time caress the bones of whispered longings, I discover you. You are a luminescent echo trapped within the velvet layers of forgotten aeons. How your voice flickers like candlelight upon the ancient stones, awakening flint sparks of fervor veined in alabaster dew.

I reach for you through the sediment of eras, every touch a gentle brush upon a fossilized memory. We were once twin stars in an orb of molten dreams, burning bright till the universe conspired silence upon us. Still, amid the stardust, your warmth lingers—a specter both haunting and comforting—eternity cradles us in its ageless serenade.

Unearth the legacies, and let the stories of yore whisper their sweet melancholia into the world's bearing.

Play the chords that bounce through the chasms of the heart, reverberating in echoes yet spoken.

As the fibers of oblivion twine themselves around us, do we not mirror these luminous bits of forgotten joy, these embers of yesterday’s summer? Our flicker is more—more than the silence we dared to endure, an unyielding sonnet composed within the core of unheard symphonies.