In the valley cradled by mists.
Where whispers of the unseen dancers illuminate
the night with echoes of ancient tales.
A path entwined with ivy and snowflakes—
Solitude guides each veiled step
under a canopy woven from dreams.

A voice calls from the hallways of silence,
peeled from time's cloak
yet echoing more real than the moment itself,
leading deeper into the whispers—
where rivers flow upwards and time kneels in respect,
held in a gaze of an eternal stillness.