"In the sepulcher of wisteria, amid the shadows of forgotten moons, lies the withering echo of a cry, a sorceress's lament in the grave attire of yore."
Trace the outlines of a phantom limb across the cold marble tablet, its touch speaking in tongues long buried beneath the earth's crust. This tablet, steeped in the incense of ancient rites, tells of a time when the air was thick with the spirits' waltz, and doors to realms were etched in the stars.
Murmurings of the Abyss"The ebon wings of the night, folded in sepulchral silence, cradle the whispers of lament, a requiem eternal."
The second tablet, crumbling yet resolute, bears witness to visions of endless twilight where eyes, veiled in velvet and pearls, meet the gaze of the void. Here, the air hums with an elegy unsung, a serenade for the nameless and the lost, etched in the marrow of existence.
Phantom Dreams"Beneath the silver gaze of the spectral moon, an echo stirs; a whisper, a sigh, a shadow in perpetual wander."