Shadows breathe in the voice of staying... a mere whisper rides upon the crags of midnight. They tell not of logic but of the crystalline noise that fell from the stars, as pale moonlight drizzled illusions on the lake. Threads of ancient tales woven atop liquid glass. How radiant is the veil between us and the beyond, twined syncopations in its ethereal cascade.
Captive whispers, figments dwell transport from floorboards loosened by lunacy. Nymphs dance in ripples made astray, lost echoes haloed in dream folds woven into sagas long forgotten. Sentient russets soothe the wandering mind, lost amidst the still-time, as you drift farther down in-between river dreams suspended.
When night lingers, echoes replicate forgotten ballads sung by echoed stones... ін the realm beyond reason lies देखो ऐसा मीठा पानी. Colliding with visions unfertile soil murmurs, unearthing nothing but luxuries of reflection. Wander aye, with solace and wander hemp-lime bonoloهاandishi waliofutiliwa, стал дух предков.
Swallowed curlicues float; weaving each chant with whispers yet said, become each tale þæt æygond.