The dance of primordial hands upon earth, molding the ephemeral into eternity. Listen closely; the realm of whispers spins tales in the feeble light.
Seek refuge where the winds do not speak,
Under the crescent's shadow lies,
The music of the void reverberates.
Mud grows in silence, an echoing dream.
Beneath the sod, an opium of secrets brews; do you sense the molecules murmur?
Follow the Murmur