You know that moment, when the world quietens down, and the only sound is your heart beating in sync with the universe? Those days, wrapped in stories, feel like static lullabies that had us mesmerized under expansive starry vaults.
"The keeper of sands spoke with the tides."
And just like that, bonds were woven between the present's hushed tones and future's vast silences. Caught in a delightful time-loop, perhaps?
"Have the birds ever told you the secrets they sing?"
Every branch a key, every leaf a note, composing an orchestra impossible to behold. And then the dream shifts slightly, slipping through the fingers like fine grains of sand. A soft laugh echoed off the valleys traversed by countless starlit paths.