Waves of soft-sighted green hushed under the weight of knowing. There are shadows, shifting in pools unseen. A voice, far but near, whispers in patterns you almost comprehend.
Do those voices belong? Or are they borrowed, attempts at unraveling predicaments not yet lived? Hold not your thoughts, let them float in the emerald haze between time and space, where trees shelter memories unnamed.
In your dreams, the path flares into a glade whose name you should remember. A trance, refreshed like dewdrops that never dare touch the morning sun. You wonder... is this serenity a shared nightmare?
Look deep enough, and you see reflections of what you've been, a million emerald shards. And there's the laughter, or was it rain? Hesitating at fate's door, reminding you of something you promised yourself—a truth that haunts deeply.
So long as the horizon's edge cradles tomorrow, your pulse will echo the stories told in silent groves. Gaze into this void, and once more tell yourself these dreams are not yours to keep, nor the emeralds cast your shadow.