In the dim halls of the eternal annals,
where time's river swells and ebbs,
lies the riddle of the aged quill,
inked in night's deepest hue.
Once spoke the oracle of glass and mist,
beneath the canopy of unseen stars.
What bells toll now in the silent city?
The answer dances in dust, patiently awaiting.
Gaze upon the reflections
and unlock the mysteries woven in the fabric of echoes.
Listen to the tales
where shadows cast long stories untold.
Will you trace the steps of the ancients,
their shadows fading into the twilight?
The conundrum remains, a timeless enigma,
whispering in the language of forgotten dreams.
The sands of the second archive swirl,
a dance of grains and moments,
entwined in the sorrow and joy of existence,
echoing the symphony of an eternal now.