Gentle are the echoes of our unfinished tales, flickering across silvered sands.

In every heartbeat's gentle clutch, a symphony awaits those who dare to dance upon the unsown rose petals of what might be.

Tell me, love, shall we twirl once more as the moon serenades the waves, drowning the call of dawn?

The night sings in whispered refrains, cloaked in mysteries of whispered calls and syrupy shades.

Forever drawn towards the light that scatters across fervent dawns, bathing the courtyard in crystalline hues

I once saw your reflection in my shadow. A hollow dream, or a sleeping lullaby waiting to be stirred to wakefulness.