The ancient ones spoke in fables, their gossamer words tracing paths unseen. Beneath the temple's shadow,
Moondust dances, creating shadows that weep.
Listen — the sound of stars colliding.
Each step taken is a verse woven into the fabric of the night.
Echoes find refuge in the twist of your smile,
where the lyrical cadence of the tide finds solace.
In this sanctuary, even silence hums a tune, the rhythm scripted by the tides themselves. Another path, a different song, forever in the service of the moon.
What tales do the waves whisper to the temples that stand vigil over the dreams?