The wind whispers through fragmented histories,
where shadows tangle in spectral threads.
Each layer, a breath of stone etchings,
hidden hieroglyphs curling like wistful smoke
A lantern flickers, casting images unbidden,
the silence of forgotten tongues immerses,
existence inscribed by trembling hands in echoing darkness.
Luminous palms reach through time's tapestry,
in labyrinths of thought they wander and weave.
Seeking meaning buried beneath the dust,
underneath, deep within grimy veins of euphoria,
the relic, whisper your name in tongues untraceable.
whispers of the mist