In the shadowed cradle where twilight knits its sable veil, the echoes of the woodland choir rise—a somber sonnet that dances with the spectral breeze. Here, amidst gnarled oak and whispered secrets, the nocturne sings, a haunting lullaby woven from starlit sighs and forgotten dreams.
Listen, oh wanderer, to the serenade of the unseen, where the moon's fingers touch the earth with silvery grace. A melody in chaos—yet harmonious in its eternal waltz, guiding wayward souls through the labyrinth of night and shadow, where the heart finds peace in the tempest.