In the corridors of forgotten whispers,
a tapestry more vibrant than silence itself.
Stitches of starlight weaving through shadows,
unfurling dreams long tucked beneath the ether.
Their forms, mere echoes, fleeting as dawn's embrace,
Walk the fine line of dusk and daybreak's sigh;
Unnamed destinies entwined in a dance
of crystalline moments in perpetual flux.
Tread softly, O seeker,
For the path is woven with the dust of time,
Every step a note in the symphony unseen,
Each pause a portal to chronicle anew.