In the twilight's cradle, where silence gathers,
a tapestry woven of stars and whispers unfurls.
Illusions draped like veils over the wandering mind,
confounding day with echoes of the night’s embrace.
The moon sighs its secrets, murmuring truths untold,
cascading a silver sheen on the river of dreams.
Reality folds like a page in an ancient tome,
bound and blind to its own woven thread.
Persistent are the shadows that dance in the dim light,
glistening with the dew of unspoken desires.
Listen... the silence calls to thee,
through corridors lit only by the flicker of embers lost.