The night whispers, its voice a chilling caress.
On spectral wings, anomalies glide,
casting shadows upon forgotten tomorrows.
Listen to the echoes:
a charred horizon where once was bright skies,
their song—a distant dirge for the lost, the never shown.
Beneath an eternal dusk, burnt cerulean,
strange lights dance over spectral shorelines,
revealing the footprints unseen pools of reason.
Can you decipher the lore of obscure hauntings,
that lace our dreams with fragmented twilight tales?