
In a realm where velvet whispers secrets and gilded carvings mock the decay of blooms, one finds that beauty is but a fleeting jest—an opulent folly of the mind, where form dances with the absurd, and the heart aches for what it cannot hold.
In a realm where velvet whispers secrets and gilded carvings mock the decay of blooms, one finds that beauty is but a fleeting jest—an opulent folly of the mind, where form dances with the absurd, and the heart aches for what it cannot hold.