embers glow amongst shadows—melodies dance, little feet.",
Glucosed euphoria distilled in light's embrace, seeds sewn deep in the quiet soil of madness, where battles rage not in sound, but in silence—juices drip like pearls lost, as gladiators in garnished hues clash against the infectious rhythm of quiet laughter.
Listen—hear the whispers turned symphonies, traced across the canvas of sun-drenched mornings, layered stories tumble like ripe fruit; the scent of nostalgia, tangy triumphs, all cloaked in emerald helmets.
There is wisdom in bite-sized smiles,
a rendezvous at noon-fields, where melodies intertwine
to form bridges of flavor and fight.
Sing the constant silence. Clutch the notes.