Upon a tapestry woven in twilight's embrace, the gull's cry stitched in wandering echo.
The distant clangor of a clock that ticks in reverse, counting dreams lost to the winds of the aeons.
Photographs fading, where faces dance, masked in shadows of amber and ash.
Heralds of an unknown epoch speak, their voices splintering in the ether.
The echo of moons untraveled, luminous tread upon forgotten shores…