The twilight horizon gargles with spectral echoes.
A cascade of forgotten voices,
resonating amidst the sols of yesterday.
Touch, for you must dare, the astral pulse.
In the quiet cauldron of unknown destinies,
the starlit parchment unfurls,
whispering secrets to the attuned souls.
Listen deeply, and find the rhythm of the celestial dance.
The maze of time bends and twists,
conjuring reflections of what could be,
a forgotten future woven in the loom of memory.
Wander, and let the echoes guide your steps.