Stepping through the nebulous glow, there exists a realm where words don't touch ground. Here, whispers tumble slowly, twining together like ethereal vines.
Can the heart dance where the soul wanders? In shadows cast by crescent night, a question hums softly through cosmic winds.
In the lively chiaroscuro of forgotten dreams, the echo of yesterday's promise dangles perilously on strings unattached.
What stories do starlit carousels spin when the world holds its breath?
Dive deeper into your own constellation: Echoes
Or gather stardust here: Revealed