In the twilight haze, where the cerulean meets the obsidian, there lie echoes of the nameless past.
The waves carry whispers of forgotten tongues, draped in the soft sigh of eternity,
Each a rune, a shard of starlight etched into the sands, waiting for souls to decipher their long-silent song.
Step lightly, brave traveler, for the shore weaves tales of those who danced upon its edge,
Bringing with them the warmth of alien hearths, the silver light of moons unknown.
Let your heart find solace in their stories, your spirit adrift among their runes.