A gentle hum fills the space between heartbeats, echoing through the corridors of forgotten dreams. Here, the air is ripe with the scent of dawn, yet the sky wears a shroud of twilight.
The raindrops tap on the windows of the imagination, each a portal to a world unvisited. Sneak out the window, dance with the shadows.
In the whispers of the breeze, she hears tales of distant lands, where the stars speak in colors unseen by waking eyes. Would you walk this path? Follow the scent of violets.
Beware the cat that speaks rhymes, its tail twirling in syncopation. In its gaze lies the secret to the void's endless laughter.
Tread lightly on this map of shadows, for beneath the surface of dreams, the void holds echoes that do not sleep. Another path lies ahead: Turn left at the silent cuckoo.
The moon spins stories the sun dares not to tell, each a flicker of shadow on the fringes of reality. Dare to listen.