In the Echo of Flutes
Under the argent glow of a forlorn moon, where waves whisper secrets to the stars, there exists a loop — a reverie spun in reverse.
Imagine a melody cascading down like a lover's tear, sweetly refusing to depart, only to retreat gently back into the night.
Heartbeats synchronize with silent cadences, where each note played backwards tells tales of what could have been, what was, and never shall be again.
The Hidden Waltz
Do you hear it in the rustling leaves? A forgotten dance beneath the canopies of yester year, beckoning under twilight's embrace.
As whispers of dawn creep upon the horizon, shadows of past encounters linger amidst the fading echoes. Hands reach out through the mist, searching, yearning — yet forever grasping only air.