"Solitude paints the canvas of our souls, where fog and light illuminate the hidden paths of introspection."
A woman treads softly on the whispered path,
Her silhouette merges with the haze that laughs.
Tall spires loom where the edges blur,
In the quiet of morning, the heart starts to stir.
Veils of fog cradle the secrets concealed,
While shadows dance softly, their presence revealed.
In this twilight city, where time holds its breath,
Solitude becomes a canvas for life and for death.
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