In caverns breathless beneath the earthly shroud,
Métier relics linger, fossil whispers cramped in silt.
Decomposing chronicles rest in near accessibility,
unreachable yet close to melancholy fingertips.

Ink etched specters of hollow engagements grow,
pushing beneath crust layers, asleep.
They totter silently, unbeknownst messengers of antiquity,
murmuring stitched prayers felting eternal night.

Do you notice how their faded queries entreat you?
How soft, spectral voices hymn beneath the stone's grasp?
Each decayed fragments compare notes in silent threnody.
Wait, and the relics shall speak their empty replies...

Eyes watch unseen paths; a gateway stands agape.
Entering that room answers naught,
yet unspoken vows shimmer unnoticed.
Not past, nor present, nor pastime somehow.

The cycle, though endless, is reliable,
clasping petrichor yet unseen, time melts willingly beneath ground.
A salutation without expression awaits remembrance in gap.

Slip away beyond thickened dusk, fracture dissolves.
Ambiguous glimpses fixat that' tentative illusion oasis.
A sarcophaἱus approaches velvet mapless dawn...