In the interstice where shadows entwine with luminous whispers,
a glyph of forgotten tongues lays dormant among echoing dreams.
Whispers of silk and shadow, woven through the fabric of time,
murmur tales of yore under the watchful gaze of starlit sentinels.
Do you hear the silent sonnets sung by the moonlit visages?
Each syllable a petal, each pause a drop of dew upon the morning's embrace.
Seek the glyph, dear traveler, where the ethereal meets the ephemeral,
and let the runes of your destiny be inscribed upon the parchment of the void.