Whispers dance in the twilight, echoing thoughts of forgotten tales, brushed by ethereal fingers.
A moment, not a moment, fleeting and yet everlasting, like shadows reaching for the sun.
Ticking clocks unravel the tapestry of existence, each tick a heartbeat of a thousand stories.
In silence, secrets float like petals on the breeze, carrying hopes woven from gossamer dreams.
They touch the edge of consciousness, where reality blurs into the fabric of imagination.
Journey, uncharted; a murmur, restless; reflections glimmer beneath the surface.