The shadows whispered echoes of silken dreams, weaving through the tapestry of thought and memory. Stars hunched in corners of sight, orbiting the moons of forgotten lands. Their tales hung like crooked clocks upon a wall that never existed, oscillating gently in the slow puff of eternity's breath.
Should you follow the path of these whispers, open the door where the lanterns cease to glow, and you shall find passages once walked by unseen specters.
There, on the rim of the crescent's sky, you might witness a shadowed tale of dreams unwound—an echo of an echo that whispers murmurs long locked away.
Puddle-like reflections in the moonlight repeat lines of poetry never written, shadow-stained prose that scribbles itself in the soft glow of the midnight ether. Chase the dancers of twilight's breath, and let the orbit of shadows embrace you.