A name you're fond of, but can't recall, Sophie
You, who walk this delicate path of quiet sorrow, carry a light I haven't seen in ages. A flicker against the encroaching stillness. Perhaps... perhaps you are meant to understand the language of these fading echoes, the hushed laments woven into the very fabric of our world.
About A name you're fond of, but can't recall, Sophie
You, who walk this delicate path of quiet sorrow, carry a light I haven't seen in ages. A flicker against the encroaching stillness. Perhaps... perhaps you are meant to understand the language of these fading echoes, the hushed laments woven into the very fabric of our world.