In the gloaming of forgotten worlds, where the horizon of reality dips its head in docile repose, the cascades sing in delicate symphony. Each droplet is a note; each echo, an elegy. Glimmering Poets weave their tales from the threads of twilight.
Beneath this ethereal cascade, the stones lay blanketed in ancient whispers, their surfaces etched with stories of phantoms who dance in the moon's gentle embrace. The phantom dance is an eternal waltz, a tapestry wrought in shadows and mist.
Allow the murmurs to lull you, dear voyager. Find solace in the harmonies of the unseen, where lullabies are sung by the myriad hues of dusk. Let your spirit be carried upon the winds into realms where the stars converse in secrets and sighs.
And when the moon calls you forth, heed its silvered light, for it guides you along pathways lesser known to the waking eye. Herein lies the truth of the cascade, a river not of water, but of memories and dreams unbound.