Upon the custodian of the night, the stones speak with voices wrapped in velvet onyx. Secrets lodged within their weathered crevices pulse beneath the moon's gentle caress, murmuring tales of dances once held 'round flickering pyres, now veiled in the silvery mists of oblivion.
Shadows dance across the alabaster moonlit stones, entwining with echoes of forgotten laughter, misty spectres of joy drifting in harmonious repose. The gusts of night weave through the clandestine canyons, fostering cradles of silence adorned by starlight, cradling in darkness a timeless, reverent pulse.
Gaze now into that perennial abyss, where dreams intermingle with the eternal boulder embrace, the lithic vigils observing celestial unfoldings since Time itself took its first breath upon this forsaken shore.
Whispered Echoes Dusk Tales