I spoke to shadows in the silence of a forgotten dusk.
Do we dance, dear specter, upon gravestones uncared for, or do we weave our sorrows into the stars themselves? Stars that no longer sing, only witness.
In these murmurs, I found solace—a flicker against a world of fading kindness.
Somewhere, under the breath of trees, ancient and unseen,
I found your name tucked among the letters we never sent.
There, they found a pause, a whisper meant only for my ears.
Once written upon a dinner table's edge, the ghost of dialogue lingers.
But do you remember the circle of the moon?
We spoke of fog and owls, circling above where voices rest.
Were you not there when the lanterns flickered with our forgotten laughter?
Now all that remains is this breath
A farewell, swallowed by midnight.
Step into another inquiry, another realm: Somewhere Beneath the Asphalt
Discover where whispers trade secrets: The Cradle's Last Sigh
Unravel the encoded epistles: In the Library of Resonance