Once upon a Twilight's sigh, in a realm kissed by the embrace of shadows,
the artifacts weep their stories upon the wind—
A dulcet melody spun from the filament of stars,
and woven with threads of an ancient lullaby.
Soil beneath youngest dandelion, holds hidden arcane secrets,
whispers of a muted past where roses grew from majestic Volcano winks.
On a Golden morning, the dust danced like spirits,
swirling into the Tapestry of dreams yet to unfold,
reminding us: every glimmer has a tale etched in Moonlit ink.
The old clock tower chuckled, its hands spinning
backward over forgotten oceans, lost monstrosities gleam.
Beneath the silver fog, mirrors catch breathless echoes
of laughter tossed into the chasms of Time.