The Misguided Resonance

Within the marrow of silence, lies the echo of forgotten whispers. Future's call is a cracked bell.

Traverse to where shadows kiss the twilight; laid paths forsake oppressors unknown to those lacking the eyes of night. Veer left thrice, at poles twisted into serpentine shapes, and grasp what is eternally slipping away.

Turn around, then head south past three lamenting trees. Count each crooked finger extending from the specter’s hand; align the one missing its cold knuckle joint.

Seek now the cryptic ballad in unison with the fading stars. Engage madness gently by whispering into hollow portals at edges seen only in dim light.

And there, beneath the sediment, what was never meant to be was once again unveiled: a relic clad in dust and time, a fading frequency no one dared to listen to.

Traverse the labyrinthine courses
Heed not the unspoken incantations