Beneath the ancient stars, a clock ticks softly. The second hand whispers secrets of an unwritten tomorrow.
A distant voice recalls the scent of summer leaves, mingled with the salt of an ocean never seen.
Echoes bounce off forgotten walls, each ripple erasing a name etched in fading gold.
Dreams woven with the mist of morning light. A childhood song hums from behind closed doors.
A page torn from a book — words scatter like leaves in the wind. "We once…" trails off into silence.