Where time weaves golden whispers, entwining threads of forgotten dreams.
The air thick with echoes of songs never sung, in the pale embrace of starlight.
Rustling robes whisper secrets in tongues lost to the ages,
Fate's tapestry hangs unspooled across the cold, marbled floor.
Stepping in sync with the heartbeat of the universe,
Every pirouette a prophecy, every glance a revelation.
Their laughter like falling stars, silent and sudden,
Brightening the dusk until it fades into nothingness.
A single thread, pulled taut, binds all in its gentle suffocation.
In the midst of alchemical transformations, souls collide and shimmer, reborn in liquid twilight.
The chambers breathe, a living entity, with the sigh of forgotten gods.