The Repository of Lost Affections

In the depths of a forgotten library, love letters dressed in dust and whispers seek their voice.

"Your silhouette etches itself on the parchment of my dreams, a constant echo in my waking sighs."

Subtle textures in the evening air hint at stories untold, concealed within fading ink.

Like a moth to a flame, the heart dances in the twilight, drawn to shadows it cannot name.

Echoes of Midnight | Studies in Ink