"Was it bannerman or bastion, standing upon the broken facade?" she whispered,
tracing lines of forgotten light in the silence thick like fog.

"Neither, nor," another laughed, voices tumbling backwards through the vast and untouched
stillness within. "Within these shadowed reveries, despair dances like stories untold—
would you dare?"

"Ah, but in dreams—crimson, artful dreams—the sea wails restlessly,
whilst eerie lullabies stretch unending," continued the muse contrarian in forms translucent.

Here, is where we with reverie dwell—from dreams to dreams
partecipation hurls wisdom beyond the ethereal seascape shield;
listen to echoes of realms untouched: the call is urging.