Among the shadows where whispers dissolve, lies an echo of forgotten melodies. Each step a resonance, vibrating through the cobwebbed silence. Dewdrops weave silver threads, anchoring morning's melancholy embrace. The ground is scattered with petals of encrypted illusions, colorful yet fading into the earth's gentle sigh.
Eyes closed, the traveler breaches the mundane, searching for verses within the vibrant tapestry of grief. Beneath the layers of behavior lies an unremembered truth, a stream of echoes that never were. Time hangs like mist, an ethereal veil moved by breath alone.