Whispers of the Forgotten Realm

Long ago, beneath a silver sky, shadows writhed softly, whispering to those who listen.

An echo of laughter permeates in delicate hues—one cerulean star fades into whispering dusk.

Are those murmurs of secrets within time's gentle grasp?

In a world carved by chimera and serenade, logic clocks in softly to the vernacular of memories dissipated.

Whither hath become the gilded thought? It cavorts as dancers 'neath lunar beams unseen.

Pick the fruit from mist, taste the hour of wandering idols, and let slip tethered dreams.

A single fragile note persists resonates like water echo through caverns of misted minds.