Part the shadow, the chasm and the night. Within the ancient Saldor their awed voices are heard. Within the ruins they are echoing off the walls as reflections of past saturnine deeds.
Rituals scarred subtle worlds into existence and carried us into a magical substantiality.
When in elder ruins silence breaches the wind, the reminiscence and the spirit awakens, bare ground lays its hearing upon the earths tersareth.
Deafening its centenary droning beat, a timeless tone, an elegy of melancholy, born out of nightly died away choirs.
Accompanied by a necromantic heartfelt groan hoary wisdom rises from perpetual devotion, heaving a ceremonial sigh of resurrection.
Part the shadow, the abyss and the night. Within the ancient Saldor their unwritten words are heard. Within the ruins they are echoing off the walls on cosmic paths through times forlorn.
Past rituals wove subtle worlds into existence and carried them into a magical substantiality.