Glistening platforms of silence. The sun weeps, just beyond a curtain of oblivion.
She heard echoes that whispered of an unseen door.
In the meadow of muted thoughts, memories danced foolishly, painting shadows in their wake.
The aroma of forgotten stories draped over the hills, heavy and sweet.
Seekers of the Twilight
After the Rain
Road Unveiled
Beyond the horizon, beyond any day, lies a world where time is spun,
A tapestry woven by hands of vapor and fleeting light.
What stories are told in the inked skies, as stars flicker in silent laughter?