In the dusklit meadows where shadows entwine,
there lies a forgotten grimoire of whispers.

Every petal trembling upon the weaving sighs,
refracting echoes of blossom-kissed Aether.

Do you hear it? The murmuring lullaby of solstice wraiths,
weaving destiny in loomspun twilight haze?

Seek, oh wanderer, beneath the veiled cascades,
where the sun bows low in obscured reverie.