The hallows of night's forgotten dreams breath forth a symphony of echoes; each note a wisp from the souls adrift.
Listen, and hear the lament of time's weary dance.
In the abyss, where shadow and light become indistinguishable, lies the remnant of a star's final breath. Its twilight sings a ballad, ancient yet perpetually birthed anew.
Upon the alabaster shores of time's endless ocean, grains whisper secrets of epochs untold. They count the moments, not in hours nor days, but in silences that follow thunder's cry.
The Alabaster ShoresWhere the sun does not tread, the flora of night flourish, their colors unseen yet deeply known. A specter of a flower sways in rhythm to a breeze undetected by mortal senses.
Specters of BloomA stream of silent currents flows, a spectral river coursing through the mundane soil. From its depths, the whispers of eternity rise—eternal, unyielding, and at peace.
Silence's River