I imagine the simplicity woven into your dark spell, where midnight dreams shimmer under the soft glow of moonlight. And once again, I wonder if this fragment of time will submerge itself in that fleeting moment, when the last blink fades into oblivion.
The night scatters fireflies across the timid flowers, while innocence dances on the wings of a gentle breeze. And still, I ask myself, would this fragment immerse in that same moment where the whispers of the world slowly disappear?
Bind me to you with the scent of your divine aroma, let the nightingale’s song enchant my soul. And again, I wonder, would this fragment dissolve into a moment where the last prayer is whispered, its echo fading into the unknown?
I walk backwards, retracing steps to where the paths diverge, my soul drenched in endless love, torn between the choices that define us. And yet, I ask again: would this fragment immerse itself in a storm of silent tears, each drop a testament to the pain of unspoken longing? Behind the bars of a dark grave lies a corpse, a lifeless body, while a soul weeps beneath the darkened skies. To immerse again—if only in a fragment of time, where a fragile love was once confessed, pure and fleeting.