Once and always, the whispers in the garden recast upon old stones—fragments of texts, sprouting. Here lie histories inscribed in forgotten tongues, the shadows of kings and peasants echo in verdant resonance.
The moon, red with the strength of unkept promises, bore witness to an evening when leaves spoke in riddles to their absent curator—a palimpsest living between roots, tethered to cycle and seed. Here is where the heretic found solace, etching dreams upon the soil's surface.
Find another truth in the absence: the empty manifesto.
From time's garden, a story germinates: intermission in bloom.
Unravel the stories buried deep within the earth...