The Forgotten Echoes

In the veiled corners of twilight,
they gather — spectral figures,
fringed cloaks brushed by
the tender fingers of dust. Where whispers weave,
shadows breach the fabric of reality.

In cryptographic serenity,
enclaves of time leak, brimming
with spectral hues—emeralds of
ephemeral reality. The sigils dance, encoding
messages wrapped in the silence
of ages past.

The winds hum where pathways diverge,
leading seekers to rifts uncharted,
pulling the threads of fate into a tapestry embossed with
the hues of forgotten stars. True vision
remains for the ones who listen.

Beyond the walls of reality,
⊗ lies the unfathomable stillness:
a serene blankness waiting for
whispers to etch themselves into
the fabric of dreamscape reverie.
Dare the abyss; become one with
the whispers of time.