In the stillness, secrets wove themselves between breaths. Deep vistas opened, carved by the ancients. Silence held them in its endless embrace.
A voice, barely a murmur: “In the shadows of folds, reality blurs.”
The earth remembers. Whispered tales etched in moss and twilight gloam. Touch them, if you dare, where echoes wander alone.
Somewhere, a forgotten thread weaves the dark into whispers. Linger. Listen. The wind knows how to tell the stories among stars.