In the dim-lit corridors of the mind’s shadowed sanctuary, echoes weave like gossamer threads in moonlight. Their silent songs, too fragile to shatter the tranquil veil, dance in the airless expanse. Here resides the voice of the unsaid, etched upon the walls of memory in tones too soft to bear... Reflections.
These echoes, unspoken cries yearning for a vessel, linger in the misty ether amid wafts of lavender melancholy. They ripple, oh they ripple, through the tapestry of the soul, myriad colors resonating without hue. The night cradles them, a gentle giant in endless slumber, while we weave dreams of ephemeral truths... Fading.
Shall we listen, dear voyager, to these whispers borne upon the wings of forgotten time? They hover, ghostly presences in a daisy chain of silent symphonies, weaving through the latticework of your waking fevered brow. Embroidering the night's cloak with secrets profound as the sea... Amethyst Ripples.