Beneath the surface, where the dust of ages settles upon layers of undiscovered truths, lie stories told not in words but in shadows.
Ancient symbols etch themselves into memory not for the eyes that see but for the minds that dare to interpret.
Reverberation: the unspoken promise of whispers, echoing across empty plains, through the obelisks of silent history.

Tracing fingers upon worn stone, inscriptions not meant for the living radiate a warmth, an invitation to recall
a time when gods walked among mortals and skies were painted with truths beyond our understanding.
Emptiness: a canvas for retrospection, even as the heart beats in rhythms untold.