In the cradle of forgotten realms,
where the echoes of ancient whispers
weave tales of time unraveled,
shadows cling to the edges of memory,
softly illuminating the path of the unseen.
A glimmer, a flicker in void's embrace,
speaks of a truth hidden,
slowly unraveling the tapestry of nothingness.
Here lies the wisdom of the ages,
in the rustling silence of stars long extinguished.
Do the shadows not remember,
the touch of light they once knew?
Ask the infinite skies,
where only echoes dare reside,
and the ancients breathe in reverent stillness.