In the heart of the amber forest, where time is but a gentle whisper,
lay a thought, suspended in the echoes of a forgotten dawn.
It spoke of stars that wandered the seas,
casting dreams upon the glistening tide.
What secrets do the misted pathways hide,
in the places where even shadows shy?
Turn the corner and find the answer,
or perhaps, more questions to ask.
Let your soul venture before the schism,
where midnight swallows the hue of dusk.
There, amongst the celestial silence,
the whispers breathe and hum their tune.
And thus, the woodland spirits weep,
over petals trembling with ancient lore,
carried by the wind in erratic grace,
amid dreary harvests of yore.
Once within a glimmering cave,
a lone flicker of silver light
danced upon shards of icy dreams,
setting the night aflame.