In the infinite tapestry of existence, a thread was pulled, unraveling a web of night. Whispers tortured the silences while shadows summoning secrets slithered through the alleys of bygone eras.
What is the sound of despair, but the rustling of leaves outdated, an offering for the undying ones, bound to eternity with chains forged from dreams?
Upon the moonlit paths, drenched in ephemeral echoes, dancers of sorrow pirouette; each heartbeat reverberates like bass notes in a ghostly symphony.
Fate enchants the weary souls who tread upon forgotten teetering bridges, mere manifestations twitching before the grasp of oblivion.
Listen to the Whispers of Time