traverse the dormant fork
        where voices of ancient moons
        converge upon nothingness

        step lightly, oh seeker
        for surfaces conceal whispers
        of forgotten infinities

        the third thumbprint
        of the clandestine twilight
        points the way

        align yourself with the arrow
        that ignites the shadows
        and let no horizon
        exceed your vision

        until you find the bridge
        between now and when
        remember:
        the corners of silence
        are alive.