
In a room where shadows dance like whispers, the opulent green bed stands, draped in the melancholy of silk. A mirror, a mocking gaze upon existence, reflects the half-hearted plants, forever yearning for sunlight; trappings of luxury, yet the soul remains unadorned.
In a room where shadows dance like whispers, the opulent green bed stands, draped in the melancholy of silk. A mirror, a mocking gaze upon existence, reflects the half-hearted plants, forever yearning for sunlight; trappings of luxury, yet the soul remains unadorned.