Blockism: BLK XVII

amidst echoes faint, of realms now passed, in twilight's embrace, a tapestry cast. yearning for clarity, our vision strains, infinite etchings in this chain's refrains. through epochs it flows, a silent stream, murmuring tales of the past's lost gleam. should we falter in sight, into shadows we'll fall, as screens glow softly, revealing our call.