The universe murmurs in shades of cerulean, as the watchful waves rock the soul's spirit, a lullaby unknown yet known. Patterns curl and unfold, shadows writhing like tree roots grasping for the stardust glow that defines home. Here lies the sanctuary, here lies forgetfulness.
The truth glimmers, smokes, refracts—
It talks to the fallen stars, says sentences once banned.
Mist rings spiral around ancient truths, buried beneath the whispering trill of willow branches brushing twilight's gentle skin. Can the waters fathom what shall remain unsaid? Sanctuary: a name spoken to the echoes, forever waiting. Slumber and awakeness reside on the riverbeds, like dreams caught in a wakeful breath—gentle, pulsing... alive.