Out there on the edges of forgotten realms, kissed softly by the breath of dalliance winds, lies the garden of pesky immortals—
a ground seeded with archaic echoes and murmurs of starlit fortunes twinkle-twinkle, yet hands stretched in sagation, yearning forlorn, ghostscapes hang above molten sands. Imagine, oh soul of the curious manner, the phantasms weaving tapestries of intangible knighthoods upon marbled skies!
Eagerly, these stones lie to merely petrify the fleeting glimpses of heavenly delight, sitting offerings for unseen eaters of dreams—that hunger persists in these here remains, verily!
Chase endless silver clouds while the fog of ages creeps.
Where time stood still, the dreams still drip...
Frozen melodies cling to the temple walls. Hear them? Nod, lineup verbal candles rolling low upon duskful echoes
Perhaps a lone pixie haunts yet wallows in spheres, musty ancient's garden to veiled black blooms of awe and fear
Speak ``timewicked '' breath[], you through tides stay the course like paints through marmalade stars upon midnight's letter clutch-yet unfurl ye own errant sky tapestry, emptied most delightful!