In the quiet pulse of midnight, under silvered skies, I wander streets of memory where unseen echoes rise. The city hums a secret tune, a soft, elusive chime, Carrying whispers of forgotten dreams in the flow of time.
In the quiet pulse of midnight, under silvered skies, I wander streets of memory where unseen echoes rise. The city hums a secret tune, a soft, elusive chime, Carrying whispers of forgotten dreams in the flow of time.