Melting Time

In the embrace of molten skies, time dissolves, its hands dripping like liquid dreams. Clocks, once steadfast guardians of moments, now weep in rivers of black and blue, their faces warped by the heat of eternity. The landscape below mirrors their decay, a cracked earth that echoes the passage of days lost to the inferno. Here, time is not a conqueror but a victim, melting into the abyss of the unknown. Yet, in this chaos, there lies a profound truth: time is not eternal, but our connection to it is. As the clocks surrender to the fire, they remind us that transformation is inevitable, and in embracing change, we find our own resilience. This is not the end, but the beginning of a new rhythm, where the heart beats to the pulse of the universe, not the ticking of a clock.