ㅤ
𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘜𝘛𝘐𝘍𝘜𝘓 𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙𝘚 ✶
An ode of a quiet poetry of souls that
brush against each other.

Soundscape built from longing, restraint, and quiet intimacy. It's the sound of recognizing someone with your heart, even if your paths only crossed once.

Each Chord Is A Step Closer
To The Edge Of A Moment
ㅤܢ𑁯ㅤׅ 🃏 promise painted in blue
TOMORROW X TOGETHER
᠅ The Star Chapter: Together ५.
"BEAUTIFUL STRANGERS"

In a world where the spell is broken,
We're beautiful strangers. 𖥔
(http://youtu.be/IcwHopeT5gY)

Some of the most beautiful connections are the ones that come and go like a passing light. Then, let's etch those moments by cherish each second of it.

TUNE ᠅ Spotify
IT IN Apple Music

Let it teach you that love, understanding, and connection don't always need names, or longevity. Sometimes, the most beautiful stories are the ones that never had a beginning or an ending.

⬪ ✶ ⬪
ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.

Underneath the epithet of the vicinity, and the wish that lies on the table that we mail to @myldemoor, @TheOceaniic for the commemorative fetes.

ㅤㅤㅤShall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.

Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Genesis of Omen.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.

Underneath the epithet of the vicinity, and the wish that lies on the table that we mail to @TheeRomanovna, @ZhouSeason, and @LeclairFamilie for the commemorative fetes.

ㅤㅤㅤShall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.

Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Root of Solace.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.

Underneath the epithet of the vicinity, and the wish that lies on the table that we mail to @KasteelOfDuisterg, @HouseofVermillion, @ValkyriePiece, @RogueLorth, and @EternityOfIgnis, for the commemorative fetes.

ㅤㅤㅤShall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.

Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Root of Solace.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ