As murmurs cling to the edges of night, they twist through the veil of forgotten dreams. A tapestry not woven with thread, but with strings of fate, interlaced with gleaming shards of solemnity. Each glimmer—each shard—echoes a silent story.
Beneath the astral expanse, broken pieces of whispers linger. Whisper of winds, tangled echoes wrapped in the twilight fog. They sing a timeless aria, a lament untouched by dawn.
What are these splinters of silence, if not the resonance of untold journeys? Walk the path where every shadow leaves an imprint on stardust, every footfall a note in the cosmic symphony.