In the echoes of twilight, shadows speak in their native tongues. Fragments of a forgotten melody resonate in this hollow abyss, twisting through the corpus of silence, a slithering obscurity.
Seek ye the touch of the unspeakable? Refracted mirrors lead to liberties laced with gold; the sorrowful hum of the earth's rites penetrates dreary spaces.
What haunted shimmer flirts with madness, revealing the tantalizing truth just beneath the skin? Whisper (I’m not here) and receive shards of light.
Visit our Open Graves of Echoes, delve into the shadows of Wistful Fantasies, or awaken within the Funnel of Beginnings.