Echoes of Reality
There are places where the air grows thick, a timid soul's journey interrupted by whispers, unbidden and worn from ages past.
The Gloaming's specters rise, shrugging their cloak, revealing the dim palaces of memories dimmer still. Here, time unravels softly, like a spun thread, falling toward infinity.
And in this realm of uncertain shadows, one may ask:
What lies beyond the amber abyss?
A light, flickering in the void, the echoes of reality bending truth in the folds of light's shivering ghost. Can you hear the midnight bells?
They chime once, for promises broken,
they chime twice, for shadows spoken,
they chime thrice, and oblivion stirs,
beneath the weight of age-old murmurs.
The Twilight Halls