Winter's light pours forth, melting the silence of minarets, erasing echoes, igniting the spark of nothingness. It weaves hope through unseen waves, carving poems of time into the void, singing to the stars with a silence like a dream. It dances like starlight rays upon the shadows, planting hope in the heart of solitude, where blossoms of radiance emerge.

It inscribes poetry of light upon the snow, in a world untouched by extinction—a realm where its breeze embodies the seasons of life in shimmering hues, and its sun paints the skies with luminous clouds.

In winter’s glow, frost flows as if the pulse of a dying nebula, brushing against the flickers of glimmers. The cold breathes a silent poem, sparkling like whispered brilliance in frozen drops. A winter steeped in light.