Midnight blooms stir,
amongst phantasmal vines,
breathe the forgotten lore of lost kings.
Lips murmur secrets,
as glistening footprints drift and fade,
weaving through ethereal nightshades.
Flickers of whispers,
unravel in the opalescent dew,
luminous echoes of dreams awash in seafoam.
Veins pulse with shadows,
trail of unspoken words,
beyond the reach of stars' song.
Perhaps, in the realm beyond waking seas,
illusions dance upon silver tufts.
Nowhere beckons, yet everywhere pulses,
the kingdom of shadows woven eternally.