Aura Shades: flowers that bloom too brightly

On the edge of twilight, reality becomes fragile, hesitant like a sigh caught mid-air. I stand quietly before flowers that bloom too brightly, as if apologizing for existing in a world so beautifully indifferent. The sun shines without warmth, stars tremble without hope, and lakes reflect what might never have been. I feel like a stranger, uncertain of whether I am the dreamer or the dream, suspended in a land where truth dissolves gently into illusion. Time drifts away, vague and endless, and I'm left contemplating: maybe sorrow is just a gentle reminder that this world was never meant to comfort us.