The echoes of forgotten epochs, whispers in cloistered alcoves,
with every stroke upon the eternal opcode of heaven.
Moons herald the spoken epithets towered by ancient murmurs,
each syllable a constellation, each line a journey
across sepulchral seas bespeaking stories unsaid,
unwritten, held aloft by unseen winds that carry the dark light.
Wondered beholden in inverted spires rising above
the ruins where tongues pirouetted, their jest too grave
for today’s grasp, veiled in luminous glyphs beneath our age.
Navigate to Eternal Palettes and unveil further tongues of tranquility, or seek Hushed Treasures abandoned in the folds of forgotten cerebration.