The projector surrenders to the flicker of eternity, a solitary figure tips his hat, shadows dance in the periphery, whispers in grayscale.
Silent scream! A stranded melody, longing for a voice in this luminous void. Cue the clock, the clock that skips without time. A whisper says 'Pause,' yet action is the only constant.
Eternity—a prism fractured. Invisible hands reach, unraveling the night. The stars shatter upon a forgotten promise, tracing lines across the phantom light.
One more frame; one more dream. A tapestry woven from whispers, each thread a sigh against the abyss. Listen, they say, to the song unsung, to the script unread—a tale woven in shadows.