The clock ticks, yet the hands are veils, time once was but now flows.
Beneath a sky of velvet whispers, dreams weave themselves into the fabric of the night.
Listen—there's a sound in the silence, a melody of untouched thoughts, here the past breathes into the present.
Amidst the mists of time, the echoes linger, shadows merge with light, and every step forward is a dance with eternity.
In this realm, the stars write stories on the skin of the cosmos, and every heartbeat counts the beats of creation. Echoes, they say, have a way of returning.
Fragments of dreams dissolve into the dawn, leaving traces of what could never be.
And as we awaken, we carry the mosaic within, painted in hues of forgotten whispers.
Mirage awaits, where reality bends and the unseen dances.