Tides whisper secrets beneath the shroud of moonlit gloom,
A pendulum of obsidian swings in silent lament.
Countless nights it keeps vigil over the abyss,
Where sand meets sea, time's boundary wears thin.
"Come, wanderer," it speaks in echoes of forgotten dreams,
"Cross the threshold, where darkness dances with destiny.
The components of fate intertwine in shadows and light,
As the decoder of old tales unfurls in the mist."