Somewhere beneath the surface, where golden grains cling to dreams less spoken, words arise, fossilized.
In the origin's whisper, beneath layers of time's vast silence, the etchings breathe in crimson dusk:
"To roam wide valleys echoed by forgotten skies — to hold the universe in fractured amber."
Once, they believed, that every step would draw constellations upon the earth, a vast canvas left unattended, weaving stardust into shadows:
Tongue-baked clay, smudged by zephyr, yet sings eternally. Old oceans chickened to ember, disappear beyond clicks of endless cycles.
And the pyramids stretch toward an unyielded sepia, where clocks unravel threadings of relentless tomorrow, telling instead of yon past streams.
Endless lines score the script, age's ink seared into skin. Descend further...
Midnight echo-resonating skiffs of memory carved into bellied earth. Concealed vaults, found and binding: the siWhat's left but to gather the beams scattered along the windfare embers?