The way unfurls before silent footsteps, an echo of infinite pursuit.
Each stride contracted by the fetor of underlying truths, unveiled only to the most daring souls.
Mystic winds whisper darkened tales,
Loquacious shadows beg to be heard,
Listen not, or consume the ether with folly.
What dwells beyond the gilded fog?
Architects of dream decay,
Beam lusters in fractured mirth.
Amidst the mire.
Sentinels watch, unblinking and hallowed, Decreeing the ugliest verity: That truth be not the light—it is the anchorcation of rage, Where intensity redefines the corridors known and unknown. Sime-set passage.