Dark entities and images come together to perform an opera, weaving secrets and denials into a magical symphony. The past haunts the night, its seductive aroma lingering in the air, while the ghost of time dissolves into an enigma, leaving everything shrouded in mystery.
These dark entities have no face. They follow you in the dead of night, unaffected by time’s race. They clutch at you where your conscience bites, never pausing to live or die. They neither break nor bleed, yet they crawl into our veins with the cry of sins, creeping through the grave of the night.
They are but mythical outlines—shadows, memories—hovering between moments of failure and decline. In some places, they are remorse; in others, they are queries, unresolved and restless.
The past continues to haunt the night, its seductive aroma entwining with the dark opera of these faceless entities. As the curtain falls, they dissolve, only to revive in the saga of the next night, where the symphony of shadows plays on.