In slumber's fluid depths, we find the quiet lakes
A mirror untouched by day’s prying eyes
The surface whispers myths only time acknowledges
Cascades of silence weaving a dome of echoes
Listen, for the silence speaks in a synthetic tongue
Aliens & Enclaves entwined by spectral harmonies
Echoes moot, yet them so luminous & neural
In this embroidered astral span, there lies a tale: Cítés
The twain unseen slide across ethereal lakes
Rise yet to the sentinels of the blurred dawns,
Where lakes hold the songs of arcane woods
And the metallic mythos echoes through woven reeds.