The Chapel of Echoes
In the sepulchral embrace of an autumn twilight, whispers begin. They weave through the ornate arches and cobweb-laced corners, a sonnet sorrowful and sweet. Each utterance carries the weight of a thousand silences, unraveling threads of time's own fabric.
The common souls, lost in mundane reveries, seldom gaze beyond the stone edifice guarding the whispered secrets. But on nights when the crimson moon hangs heavy in its shroud, those secrets briskly murmur, laying bare their esoteric truths.
The Obsidian Altar
Upon an altar carved from night, rests the lamentation of ages uncounted. Cold, crystalline tears drip from censors swinging lazily in darkened air, and a spectral wind hums tales of old. Are they echoes of futures never lived, or mirrors to the inevitable past?