A place untouched by footsteps, the quiet corners of memory cradle secrets, things that linger, scarcely audible, whispered lullabies in the fabric of the night.
There, in the heart of the mist, exists a path worn by the dreams of those who dared to wander. Silhouette upon silhouette, they trace the rim of the abyss, where stars weep silver and the moon sings its haunting lullaby.
The air is thick with the scents of echoes and shadows—silent words hung between the leaves of ancient trees, waiting for the touch of a gentle breeze to set them free.
In these moments, you will hear the unspoken tales of a world on the other side, where the horizon meets the sea of forgotten whispers. Here, every breath you take is a note in a symphony that never ends, a melody played by the unseen hands of time.