In the twilight hours, echoes persist like whispers of ancient dreams; the warmth of radiant suns, now mere memory. Distant glimmers reflect shadows upon the water’s edge, slivers of truth lying beneath fathoms of doubt.
The sky weeps silver tears, each droplet a story unseen. When did the stars begin to shy away? A tapestry woven with threads of sorrow and ecstasy unravels in the stillness... A forgotten language rich with yearning.
Time is a river, twisting between stones of recollection. There lies a solitude that sings fiercely, calling to the lost. Regrets drift like fallen leaves, an autumnal symphony played on a broken record. Beneath overcast skies, the faint signals linger, a resonance transcending light.
So we wander, trapped within thoughts that echo in chambers of the mind. A shard of glass, and the universe refracts; something exquisite breaks open, yet remains untouched. In the distance, muted luminescence beckons—are you there? Listen closely, abandoned hearts may yet find resonance.