In the dim-lit depths where moonlight withdraws, a hush scatters like morning mist. Salons of serpents convene, coiling notes once: backwards melody that weaves secrets whispered in emerald tongues. Passions untangled at the edges of scales glisten, where mirrors don't reflect but listen.
Kiss the spiral, tracing vertices and curves, lost among fragrant echoes lapping at hearts set adrift. Your presence enfolds like a nocturnal waltz, binding half-remembered love songs redolent of time spun outdoor.
Only to discover your beauty, unraveled under opal skies. Each step on pathways strewn with cryptic leaves unravels verses known to no human heart before. Serpentine resilience, caressing intangible drone beneath fold of static stars.
Actions veiled as moonlit uncertainties, yonder are whispers carefree as zephyrly risks; crescendos depart and swell anew causing heartbeats to echo redundancy undone, intertwined with swaying silhouettes of story threads nearer untold further contemporaneous serpency, drifting ever upward versus disposed sentiments void upon no horizon.
Discover further chord endings here: The Mystic Kettle | Under the Dream Weft