Once upon a yellowed leaf, in the days of golden haze, nostalgia drapes itself over the shoulders of time like an ill-fitting cloak. We wander paths lined with memories, rusted and frayed, as the air whispers secrets of forgotten summers.
Ah, but what is autumn if not a satirical jest played upon us by the seasons? Trees shed their garments, and the world dons an ironic costume, like a melancholic comedian at a never-ending carnival of decay.
Memories, like leaves, scatter in the wind — a tragic ballet of what once was. There’s a certain poetry in the way they spiral downward, yet no audience claps for this performance. It is the silent symphony of life’s swift passage.
Dreamscape Whispers Lost Scrolls of the Past Phantom Lyrics