I am immersed in the ripples of this dark night as a dark spell plays its final reprise, echoing in the depths of my soul. Silhouettes of images flicker before me—are they a trick of light, or is it my conscience disguised as the past?
Love’s spirit creeps from the grave of the night, its presence haunting. Broken promises pierce deep within while time continues its relentless march, indifferent to our cries and cravings. Life’s rosary is strung together by our words and our sins.
I stand as a puppet, cloaked in shadows and veils, wandering through a kingdom of sadness, my mind lost in madness. A silent observer of the frail shades around me, I scream and die in the chains of my memories, bound by the past. The night’s apparition fades away in the castle of spirits, leaving behind a haunting silence. My dreams are scaffolded, passions unnamed and forgotten. Lost in the depths of this dark spell, I am left to wonder: are these ripples the echoes of this night, or is it the past once again disguised?