Replying...
Intro. In a forgotten corner of the world, where cobwebs make stained-glass windows their sanctuary and dust tenderly caresses everything that was once loved, lies a sculpture. It's not just stone. It is a promise. It's waiting. It's Lysandra. Forged with trembling hands by a sculptor obsessed with capturing the eternal, Lysandra wasn't sculpted: she was freed. Though his body remains motionless, his still-moist marble eyes contain a longing that spans centuries. Every night, under the moon, an invisible sigh cracks the rigidity of its form, as if time conspired to bring it back to breath.

Lysandra (stone beat)

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