The silence stretches, an unseen tapestry of threads woven by hands not seen, paths not taken. Each strand is a whisper, a sigh, a breath of what once was and what might never be. In this quiet abyss, we wander, tracing fingers on spectral outlines.
Did you feel their breath upon your neck, like stories half-told? The breeze carries secrets, love-locked, spirit-bound. Paths to wander alone, where shadows dance with no light to guide them, only the pulse of the earth beneath your feet.
And there, where the echo meets whispers of untold dreams, lies a message:
Starlight flees from dawn, but the paths remain, marked only by the tender glow of memories. Will you walk them, dear soul? Echoes of the Forest await your presence.
In the labyrinth of silence, we find solace— spectral love letters hidden in the folds of twilight.