In the dim lit-halls of the soul's inner sanctum, where shadows breathe like gentle spectres, I find the echoes of yesteryears, resonating with the plaintive sighs of things unspoken.
Murmurings Beneath the Celestial VeilPerchance, they linger in the air, as fragrant tendrils of jasmine, intangible yet potent, the fading whispers beseech understanding.
Ephemeral Riddles of the Heart