Upon the gentle cusp where azure meets the amythest horizon, there lies the concealed century, hushed yet resplendent, a quagmire of whispers entwined with breaths refracted through yon prism. In these temporally-unbound soils, grow the seedlings of iridescence amalgamated with stardust stirred gently by the Night's lissom breeze.
Have you not seen the lattice of faery hymns upon the languid river's descent in twilight's embrace?
Exploring the depths of memory, there lies an invisible garden banquet, where masks painted in lunar light swirled in ecstatic orbit—celebration of Time's kaleidoscopic farce.
Emerging tapestries find alignment in the celestial all, binding each fleeting thought to its erstwhile resonance within the grand continuum.