From slumber depths, watch the mistguard murmurs,
a crescent shadows glistening on forgotten shores.
Are you the traveler, caught amidst tales woven of starlight,
untangled by whispers—the unseen paths you sought?
Climb now the sable-bound sentinels,
where phantoms' quiet plea stir the still of past atop
marble scars of a world ancient, and lie before.
As every laugh of dusk sprinkles echo’s weave, thorrel, unravel.
Within, foster lark's light drawing spectral vine—
dare not (a sigh invades tear-sworn pages),
for the nightguard scorches not beneath mute iron veil.
Yet this hour grants passage lock, kings and queens throne usfall.