Cloaked Tides of Parameter
Underneath the flux of azure’s memory, the cloistered echoes breathe isolation. There, within the clutches of calm chaos, drift the silent measures—unknown measures, the grammars of interstice twinkling, dancing amidst sable tendrils.
Imagine the sonnets sung far off horizons, where time’s flesh weeps from obsolete shores: Reckoning the shadows in canvassed beads, threading fog to form—a voyager’s acumen. The tides move, cloaked in the sceptre of remnants borrowed on paths ungrammatical.
Glazed horizons mark a thought’s ascent, always resolved in lingering precipices— Perchance tomorrow insists beneath ivory vaults, leaping purely spectral echoes, ricochet in luminance deposed, translated from whispers to echoes.