
L🜁ST GΞNΞRΔTION
At 3 a.m., when shadows swallow the noise, A tapestry of static and phantom notes, it wraps around you, a hideout whispering of forgotten dreams and a future yet to experience.
At 3 a.m., when shadows swallow the noise, A tapestry of static and phantom notes, it wraps around you, a hideout whispering of forgotten dreams and a future yet to experience.