The murmurs throb with ancient rhythm, as if a lullaby from forgotten stars reaches the earthbound soul. There is solace in the ticking silence, where every grain of sand remembers the touch of a foot now lost to time.
Fingers dance upon the petals of dreams, brushing aside the mist that swirls where past shadows play. Oblivion hums in a crooning shanty, winding through every crevice until the whispers weave themselves into the very marrow of being.
Hearts string tales across the threads of the dim-lit evening, tales of lovers turned myth, hiding in the silent gardens of lavender—each sigh an echo, each step a constellation dimming into the dawn.
Voices blend into the foliage, root deep into the transient soil, whispering secrets only meant for a world unseen. The tapestry of the ocean sky stretches for miles, touching hands yearning for stars that fade as quickly as they bloom.