Beneath the petrified oaks, in a realm untouched by the sun,
whispers hover like fleeting spectres. The echoes of ancient hearts
pulse through the cobwebbed corridors of the mind, stirring those
fabled murmurs once thought to have perished within the abyss.
Adrift, they weave through shadows, brushing against those who own
the sight of the unseen, revealing secrets etched in cries of bygone souls.
The shadows entwine, whispering...
Crimson Plight
an
Celestial Candelabrum
in
a
The Forbidden Grove