In the silent enclave of slumber, when stars weave secrets upon the dusk-draped horizon,
there unfold the dreams—plum-flecked memories of serenades sung by moonlit phantoms.
Baroque echoes cradle the soul, entwining tender recollections of loved ones lost
in an ever-flowing river of time, where the undulating tides carry scents of forgotten jungles.
Have you not felt the soft embrace of a whisper, as it journeys through mist-veiled valleys,
breathing life into the crystalline laughter of sylvan sprites?
The heart dances upon stardust trails—each infinitesimal step a testament to joys once known,
while your spirit, a gossamer thread, weaves intricate tapestries among the stars.
As dawn caresses the horizon with tender fingertips, painting the world in hues of ephemeral gold,
the dream recedes, but not without leaving fragments—bright shards of magnificent melancholy.
Ponder the vivacious dance of yesteryear in the cathedral of the heart,
where every memory sings in hues more vibrant than any waking truth.
Let them echo, let them resonate—
take these dreams, dear wanderer, and unravel their mysteries beneath the eternal skies:
Unravel Further |
Echoes of Silence