Oh, whispering winds, brazenly braiding the unuttered dainties of destinies unfurled. Trace thy fingertips over the sulphurous ink that stains parchment under the flickering eye of a crescent gaslamp. For these letters are not mere letters, but emissaries of the rapture that collapsed in the moonscape.
The elder's anvil struck amidst tempestuous pines, failing not to temper the whispers of the untamed sirens. Codices of chordata contra mundum hastening upon the ecstatic lamentations of harpies. Unlock the pandemonium and weave the frail symphony, dear interlocutor.
Enthralled spirits encipher cacophonous hairsprings, the balmy nights frayed along their tethers, casting unto yon shores the melismatic advices of implacable slumbers. Verily, a moth doth toll thy absent bell—can thou resist to turn the unread page?
"O dearest daguerreotype scythe," whispered the rogue astronomer to his muslin-clad mirrors, "thou art both muse and menagerie to my nocturnal excursions orchestrated by opal music notes." Drift, such fancies, like vaporous seeps o'er thine opaque aqueducts.
Spectres of obsolete algebraic tantrums wrestle tobacco curls, effacing thine epistolary trance with each etheral imprint loosed by clockless numériques. Stalk the bleached porcupine dirges, and apprehend the mellifluous whispers.
Prithee, an era unscripted awaits its cathedral comet; shall we pen the soliloquy of rambling dew-drops caught in the scintilla pirouette of sable twilight?