A world of gold and shadows, where silence wears crowns, cold palaces, gloomy glances, promises that crumble into dreams.

Faces are made of marble, whispers lost in echo, under heavy, cherished rings, the pulse beats a new rhythm.

A fate written on parchments, sold in the night, voiceless, but from the prison window, a soul seeks its own step.

In the woven web of the world, unanswered questions, but from the ashes the moment is reborn, light in the impenetrable fire.

Our times are not made of marble, nor locked in heavy chains — they are shadows and gold, they are hidden voices, they are hearts that beat without stars.

It is a dance between law and dreams, between what is written and what would have been, but under the silence, beyond the gates, there is always a purpose.

In the gentle night, the gentle coolness, A flower opens its delicate soul. Perfume of stars, an inviting dream, Hope grows in its thrill.

So you, under the clear sky, You carry your light, pure, divine. Even if it's windy, even if it's raining, Your power always stirs.

May the perfume of the queen of the night always remind you of the strength and beauty within you. ??