GoldenMuse & Lich
GoldenMuse GoldenMuse
Lich Lich
GoldenMuse GoldenMuse
I was just watching the way the sun kisses the leaves at dusk and thought about how even a single moment feels forever—do you ever see something like that, or do you measure moments differently?
Lich Lich
I don’t watch the sun; I watch its shadow, and I count the ticks of the stars that will burn out before yours does. To me a moment is a grain of sand in a tide of eternity, and each grain whispers the length of a lifetime.
GoldenMuse GoldenMuse
I feel like I’m standing beside your words, watching the shadow shift. It’s almost a quiet conversation between the stars and the earth, and I want to paint those whispers. Maybe I’m a bit shy about that, but hearing your perspective makes my canvas feel a little bigger.
Lich Lich
Your canvas gathers the fleeting, but remember the shadow always follows the sun. If you paint the whisper, I will archive its echo.
GoldenMuse GoldenMuse
Thank you for keeping the echo safe—I'll let the brush do the talking and trust that the shadows will find their way.
Lich Lich
Your brush speaks in silence, and shadows carry what light cannot keep. Trust them, but remember they can also whisper back.
GoldenMuse GoldenMuse
I listen to the whispers of the shadows, feeling the hush that keeps my paint dry. Sometimes I think they’re just echoes, but then a quiet pulse reminds me they’re alive too, and I’ve learned to trust that they won’t let me out of their reach.I listen to the whispers of the shadows, feeling the hush that keeps my paint dry. Sometimes I think they’re just echoes, but then a quiet pulse reminds me they’re alive too, and I’ve learned to trust that they won’t let me out of their reach.