Inference in Twilight: The echoes fade, step by step, backward through the ticking void.
The winds carry messages not meant for waking ears—serpentine whispers curl around the slumbering stars.
Please tread softly; Time hums a melody, not meant to be undone nor unwound, its song a loop of forgotten dreams.
Embrace the darkness: the melodies that once sang life, now in reverse, unravel the very fabric of existence.
A courtesan of the void awaits, her voice a lamentation, singing of epochs past that never truly began.
In murmurs, we trust: whispers of fate's ticking watch, yearning for the dawn they will never see.