In rows of quite grace that bloom, tiny ensembles of stillness, held in time, each one cradle in a circle of clam, like whispered mantras carved in clay
The fabric whispers of days gone by, of royal courts beneath the sky of murmuration of aflock. Tigers dreaming in a palace grand, a symphony of colours aross the land.
The leaves they whisper of sun kissed days and moonlit nights in a soft, hazy haze.of dreams, hopes and memories dear, a timeless elegance, forever near
Soft as a sigh on parchment skies, each bloom unfolds in gentle grayscale grace- a garden of shadows where time tiptoes. Petals drift like faded memories, etched in ink and...
