Enshrined in glass, their whispers drown the forgotten echoes. Who knows what shadows dance in the moonlight upon their fractured spectrums? Consume them with a prayer, for they possess the secrets inked on the scrolls of time long bent astray.
Pale as a night unfound, these crystals cradle remnants of lost hierarchies. Grind them under obsidian mortar for a potion of vivid renaissance. Fractures unveil outer extents only ventured by hauntings unculled.
In a world dimmed away, they crystallize time's grip without thaw. Stir with broken promises and yield essence deep as veils severed by lace unearned. Shadows shall weave around eternity's segmented mirage.