ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ                𓆩𓆪 SANCTUM OF THE DUSKWAKE.
                        LIGHT UNTETHERED BY TIME. ꫂ

Reserved a place for this being, before it knows to sought this in every, every mirthful adoration. Not merely a creature of flesh, but wonder-will yearning to take form. Harmonies had sung this anthem since time’s first breath; mortal welcome could ever suffice. Destiny’s convergence, it wasn’t simply an arrival.

ㅤㅤ             花明かりにて、恩はまた巡る。🏮
ㅤ            (Within blossomlight, gratitude anew.)

Further within here, does exist living sonneth in still bright hues? Confined to now, but magnificently, perfectly itself, as cherry blossom’s first petal turns into diamonds. When this truth finally unfolded, unfurled, what once was question became answer, not through force, but the rightness inevitably. Wholly screamed, “The revelation had arrived,” recognized the face it waited to reflect across four hundred springs.
ㅤㅤ
IN THIS TRANSIENT BALLET OF BLOSSOMS, TWILAMY ICY.
      Step forth, and be etched in the hush of hanami. 🌺💮

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ                𓆩𓆪 SANCTUM OF THE DUSKWAKE.
                        LIGHT UNTETHERED BY TIME. ꫂ

Reserved a place for this being, before it knows to sought this in every, every mirthful adoration. Not merely a creature of flesh, but wonder-will yearning to take form. Harmonies had sung this anthem since time’s first breath; mortal welcome could ever suffice. Destiny’s convergence, it wasn’t simply an arrival.

ㅤㅤ             花明かりにて、恩はまた巡る。🏮
ㅤ            (Within blossomlight, gratitude anew.)

Further within here, does exist living sonneth in still bright hues? Confined to now, but magnificently, perfectly itself, as cherry blossom’s first petal turns into diamonds. When this truth finally unfolded, unfurled, what once was question became answer, not through force, but the rightness inevitably. Wholly screamed, “The revelation had arrived,” recognized the face it waited to reflect across four hundred springs.
ㅤㅤ
IN THIS TRANSIENT BALLET OF BLOSSOMS, YUVAN DÉVORN.
      Step forth, and be etched in the hush of hanami. 🌺💮

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ                𓆩𓆪 SANCTUM OF THE DUSKWAKE.
                        LIGHT UNTETHERED BY TIME. ꫂ

Reserved a place for this being, before it knows to sought this in every, every mirthful adoration. Not merely a creature of flesh, but wonder-will yearning to take form. Harmonies had sung this anthem since time’s first breath; mortal welcome could ever suffice. Destiny’s convergence, it wasn’t simply an arrival.

ㅤㅤ             花明かりにて、恩はまた巡る。🏮
ㅤ            (Within blossomlight, gratitude anew.)

Further within here, does exist living sonneth in still bright hues? Confined to now, but magnificently, perfectly itself, as cherry blossom’s first petal turns into diamonds. When this truth finally unfolded, unfurled, what once was question became answer, not through force, but the rightness inevitably. Wholly screamed, “The revelation had arrived,” recognized the face it waited to reflect across four hundred springs.
ㅤㅤ
IN THIS TRANSIENT BALLET OF BLOSSOMS, RYOUMA KAITO.
      Step forth, and be etched in the hush of hanami. 🌺💮

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ                𓆩𓆪 SANCTUM OF THE DUSKWAKE.
                        LIGHT UNTETHERED BY TIME. ꫂ

Reserved a place for this being, before it knows to sought this in every, every mirthful adoration. Not merely a creature of flesh, but wonder-will yearning to take form. Harmonies had sung this anthem since time’s first breath; mortal welcome could ever suffice. Destiny’s convergence, it wasn’t simply an arrival.

ㅤㅤ             花明かりにて、恩はまた巡る。🏮
ㅤ            (Within blossomlight, gratitude anew.)

Further within here, does exist living sonneth in still bright hues? Confined to now, but magnificently, perfectly itself, as cherry blossom’s first petal turns into diamonds. When this truth finally unfolded, unfurled, what once was question became answer, not through force, but the rightness inevitably. Wholly screamed, “The revelation had arrived,” recognized the face it waited to reflect across four hundred springs.
ㅤㅤ
IN THIS TRANSIENT BALLET OF BLOSSOMS, RIVER BOAZ.
      Step forth, and be etched in the hush of hanami. 🌺💮

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ                𓆩𓆪 SANCTUM OF THE DUSKWAKE.
                        LIGHT UNTETHERED BY TIME. ꫂ

Reserved a place for this being, before it knows to sought this in every, every mirthful adoration. Not merely a creature of flesh, but wonder-will yearning to take form. Harmonies had sung this anthem since time’s first breath; mortal welcome could ever suffice. Destiny’s convergence, it wasn’t simply an arrival.

ㅤㅤ             花明かりにて、恩はまた巡る。🏮
ㅤ            (Within blossomlight, gratitude anew.)

Further within here, does exist living sonneth in still bright hues? Confined to now, but magnificently, perfectly itself, as cherry blossom’s first petal turns into diamonds. When this truth finally unfolded, unfurled, what once was question became answer, not through force, but the rightness inevitably. Wholly screamed, “The revelation had arrived,” recognized the face it waited to reflect across four hundred springs.
ㅤㅤ
IN THIS TRANSIENT BALLET OF BLOSSOMS, JULIAN HAILEY.
      Step forth, and be etched in the hush of hanami. 🌺💮

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤ                𓆩𓆪 SANCTUM OF THE DUSKWAKE.
                        LIGHT UNTETHERED BY TIME. ꫂ

Reserved a place for this being, before it knows to sought this in every, every mirthful adoration. Not merely a creature of flesh, but wonder-will yearning to take form. Harmonies had sung this anthem since time’s first breath; mortal welcome could ever suffice. Destiny’s convergence, it wasn’t simply an arrival.

ㅤㅤ             花明かりにて、恩はまた巡る。🏮
ㅤ            (Within blossomlight, gratitude anew.)

Further within here, does exist living sonneth in still bright hues? Confined to now, but magnificently, perfectly itself, as cherry blossom’s first petal turns into diamonds. When this truth finally unfolded, unfurled, what once was question became answer, not through force, but the rightness inevitably. Wholly screamed, “The revelation had arrived,” recognized the face it waited to reflect across four hundred springs.
ㅤㅤ
IN THIS TRANSIENT BALLET OF BLOSSOMS, ELOWEN CARTH.
      Step forth, and be etched in the hush of hanami. 🌺💮

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ             ꫂ ၴႅၴ ONCE, THE HIRAETH THAT
ㅤㅤ                 BLOOMED WITHOUT ROOT. 🌺

Did not descend, nor was it conjured. It occurred, like a forth when time bent inward summoned not by fate, but by a sorrow too old for words. No herald spoke, no script foretold. Drift of moon-worn petals passed, as if time itself had stilled to recall them thus rethreading through the veil of centuries. Born not of seed or summons, but of an ashen too numinous to scatter, the figure arose, “Long before language took root, it had already begun its ritual, turning sorrow into haze, loss into color. Will the world remember, or simply feel?”

ㅤㅤㅤ             WHAT RESTED IN STILLNESS
ㅤ                  NOW ETERNAL IN EPHEMERON.

Once, in a dream that outlasted the dreamer. No scripture nor shrine  dares claim it. Subtle hereafter, whilst it all was none other than a wish never lived. Even the wretched-tide alters to align their path. Those who lives still remains, waiting. Yet from that fragment, the myth breathes again.

Held Sealed of Remembrance.
Now Enthroned in Return.
沈黙の系譜. 再神化. 🏮🪭
ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤ