Beneath the canopy where shadows dream, the roots intertwine. They tell tales of memories warped by the silk of time. You may stand upon one path, yet your soul is beneath strolling upon another. These branches, they mumble secrets of nights that never met morning...
Once, a fish spoke of longing for skies, finding its whisper lost in the grave of sand castles. Dream-rich soils, where the scentless roses exchange puzzled glances from alternate realities. Would you pick a bud, longing for a soundless voice captured in the petals' endless tale?