ππππΆπ―
Through the void, they murmured badly forgotten tales in tongues that time herself had drowned in shadows. Listen, O you who dare tread the vale of silence.
Once, rivers of ink flowed from the quills of ancient sages upon papyrus sheets that now disintegrate, swallowed by the cumulus of ages. The whispers unfolded like petals of obsidian, anointing the seeker with an unholy knowledge.
πππΏππ
Upon dormant stones, the hieroglyphs persist, etched in symphonic talons. Read and beware; the signs are portals to echoes that leer and wreathe with spectral silk.
Perchance, a marionette of fate will dance before your eyes, strings pulled taut by invisible skeletal hands. Dare you to follow the scream that lucidly fades into this whispering cadence?