In the quiet dusk, when the world holds its breath, I hear the whispers of forgotten dreams.
"Once upon a time, the stars danced, and the moon wept glittering tears," the shadows say.
There is a garden, hidden in the folds of memory, where the flowers bloom in colors unseen by day. Here, the breezes carry tales of love—a love not bound by the compass of time, nor by the shackles of space.
The evening birds, with their serenades, paint the skies with stories dark but captivating.
Do you remember the lullabies we sang to the night? They echoed through the corridors of our childhood, each note a promise, each pause a secret untold.
In the moonlit glow, I feel a pull, a yearning for the unseen, the unsaid—a love that breathes beneath the surface, waiting, always waiting, for someone to listen.