A tapestry woven in midnight hues, where the stars whisper forgotten tales.
Beneath the celestial silence, a rumble, unseen, unheard, yet sensed in the marrow.
Shadows writhe in silent dreams, longing for the kiss of light, the touch of breath.
Watch as the horizon wavers in a dance of veiled phantoms, an echo of what was.
In the corners of now, chaos sleeps, restless, waiting for the dawn it fears.
The ground pulses gently, like a heart beneath the surface, encased in velvet darkness.
Roots of ancient trees cradle the chaos in a cradle built of stars and desires.
Eyes unblinking look on from the void, probing, knowing, seeking a tale of destruction.
The air is thick with the scent of rain that never falls, of wind that never blows.
A silence profound, an orchestra of the unseen, playing notes of tomorrow’s unraveling.