Truly, our voices are scattered along forgotten roads,
under written tales hovering, invisible paths cross your echo.
Listen beyond ears' realm, and you may see, you may hear
revelries spoken in dialects unclaimed.
Explore the face of ellipis...
who picks the acorns of slumbering tales?
Between the nightshade and dawn's crest. ** nothingness flickers **
Navigate the echoing thresholds: