Carved from embers across forgotten aeons, the spheres unravel stories of whispering chains tethered to circumferences not forged in the mortal grasp. Below lies the alignment untouched by dawn, a glyph written in the nocturnal pulse— synthetic voices composed to orchestrate veneration.
As the clock stitches dreams with needles of crow feathers soldered in chaos, the forgotten platitudes behold dimensions sighed in overlooked syncopation. Listen, as they command unwritten chronicles written in silence upon scales, woven with languid abandon.
Harmony in Cycles