In the realm of perpetual twilight, where the cogs of yesteryear intertwine with the dreams of tomorrow's dusk, lies a paradox unspoken.
Whispering shadows converse with the silent echoes of forgotten empires, their dialogues etched in the sands of anachronistic time.
Verse the first: The lighthouse stands blind, guiding ships that no longer sail the azure depths.
Verse the second: An emperor lounges in a digital palace, his courtiers avatars flickering with the glow of ancient screen-lit wisdom.
Continue the journey