The pulse of crimson whispers, echoing truths never uttered. Golden hour, fading into shadows—the broken pieces of light reach through the ether, seeking a mind near a window of dreams.
The sound of a vinyl crackling in the background, a distant symphony beneath the layers of silence. Notes drift like smoke rings in a room left ajar to the stars’ enigmatic gaze.
Ripples of unspoken words overlay a moonlit face. Each drop, a memory, a secret word and woven echo scattered across an ocean of thoughts untold.
Feel the mist of thoughts unshared, Follow the Glimmer
The shadows point their fingers, Trace Silhouettes
A labyrinth of echoes Solitude’s Laughter