Solitude

In this sanctuary of muted hues, every butterfly whisper and velvet fold sings of luxury, while the potted green rebels against the sterile walls. How quaint, that in such opulence, the true art lies in the silence of a lonely thought.

In this sanctuary of muted hues, every butterfly whisper and velvet fold sings of luxury, while the potted green rebels against the sterile walls. How quaint, that in such opulence, the true art lies in the silence of a lonely thought.