We Sing in Echoes

Through static sighs of ancient ether, we wade, the luminescent beams of forgotten stars guide our way. Aurora whispers in silenced screams, spectral hymns fill the chasm.

A calendar abandoned, leaves mingling with time, and in this realm below reality, days remain a question mark. The pale moon spins tales momentarily revealed through cracks in a sunless sky.

Here the souls wander, brushed by the winds from the ever-extending twilight, hand in ethereal hand with shadows of half-remembered dreams.

The screech of a raven echoes the myriad futility, and crystals once alive now lie, hearts lobotomized by centuries of silence.

Yet, we concoct mirages of memory, nets woven with threads of stars, underneath the nether’s tongue, murmuring the poetry of void and vanished wishes.

In steps **un-numbered**, they ascend, half-formed and airy, into the corridors' recesses where time wilts without seasons, awaiting the gentle strokes of aeonian artists.

Join us, beneath the = veil =, replicate the rhythm in the hollow heart of increase and decrease.