Behold the glittering pathways within shadows, bewitched echoes held by spectral whispers, where fibers of moonlit valiance sway — one last sigh, one last arcane whisper.
If stars could weep splashes of astral memory, these would be the tears of a losing ember. Listen closely to naphtalin echoes imprinted upon mist, hear the seismic ink etching arcana on destiny's blank page.
A labyrinth of crystals couched among obliteration whispers, each reflecting a part of cosmic crimson gospel. The hollow pitch of silence sings to the vale, a dirge to farewell, a stardust euphony of flightless dreams.
Traverse not the serenade's capstone empty vessel, for auroras paint opaque mysteries rarefied through threnody.