In the dusky corridors of our dreams, where moonlit velvet whispers secrets untold, there are currents of time we dare not interrupt. Little hands clutching at threads of destiny, weaving tapestries of night and wonder.
Here, the clocks melt into puddles of silver rain, and the maze of twilight calls. Listen to the echoes of laughter that twist and turn within the winding memories.
Sometimes the stars wink knowingly, hinting at places where dreams collide with reality, like the mosaic of mystery scattered across the night sky.
Imagine a realm where the soil sings beneath your feet and the wind carries petals wings of a dream.