In the dim-lit corners of consciousness, where shadows drink the last remnants of light, lies an empty room. Here, dreams linger like fragments of a forgotten song, fading softly into the fabric of night.
The echoes whisper secrets of worlds unseen, where colors bleed into each other and time pauses to breathe. In this chamber, each silent murmur clings to the walls, imprinting stories that dance just beyond sight.
Outside, the sky is a tapestry woven from the threads of dusk, where stars dare to peek through the veil of fading twilight. Inside, however, the room remains untouched, a sanctuary for dreams that dare not speak their names.
As you step further into this realm, each whisper invites you to listen closer, to unfold the narrative locked away in shadows. And yet, these tales flicker in and out like fireflies lost to the dark.