The spirits whisper through the hidden paths, where echoes of ancient trees remember forgotten songs...

Step lightly, onward. The echo stretches itself, a shadow chasing light.

Look, the scroll spins beneath your fingertips. Words unraveling like the unwinding time of yesteryear...

The time, the time, the circle of flame, the forgotten name...

In dreams, questions wrapped within questions intertwine like vines on a forgotten road.

Turn, turn, return, and hear the rivers murmuring the chronicles of unheard dusk.

A spiral in a spiral, a song in a song, endless yet beginning anew.