The air thickens with the songs of a thousand breaths,
weaving tales from the very strands of forgotten constellations.
In the cradle of the mountains,
where shadows embrace the light, lies a voice.
It whispers secrets, etched in the eyes of stars,
murmuring legends etched by time's gentle hands.
Once, long before we grasped these shifting hearths,
a tale was spun—a tapestry of dreams and twilight,
of drops of moonlight resting on dawn's tender grass.
Can you hear it?
the call of ages past, reverberating in the hollow of your heart?
A silent echo,
yet louder than the beating of a thousand drums.