Dawn's Ember's Lull

In the once resplendent firmament, now only a carcass of hues gone ashen, she settled quietly— the morning star whose luminescence had succumbed to shadowy repose—but amidst her quietude, the ember unraveled tales in whispered voices cascading like thankfully devoured dreams upon the tattered sails of time's immevable sea.

Each ember spoke of delicate reveries unmapped across the dark waves, where phrases entwined with serpentine elegance, winding through layers of enigma and nostalgia, only to emerge faintly illuminated by a transient flicker, as if mocking the waves in their imminent forgetfulness.
Meet these elusive whispers, they invite—but listen well, for repletion is a bitter affliction, and our song averse to harmony.

Unseen figures traverse corridors of dusky obscurity, estates of the shadows, secrets left unguarded weave into their footsteps—a`oth`er narrative waiting awake, clinging desperately to veils of ebon mist, susceptible to the lightest touch of darkling curiosity that slips through gnarled minds.

Proceed toward these uncarved stones, follow their unbound sigh—a mere touch perhaps would expend the entire universe away from its sworn sleep across the dreary domes, breaking a slumber notorious yet tender within the dim lattice beheld by one unseeing eye.
Paths obscure once more—their opening, a key, their end, a story.