In the depths of your mind, where sunlight fears to tread, there lies a great void. Within this void, shadows dance - a cabaret of forgotten dreams and whispered secrets. Here, the walls weep with echoes of laughter long extinguished, and the floors are strewn with the remnants of unsaid words.
The Raven spoke, "In these caverns, the only truth is the absence of truth." And so, the voids filled with never-ending paradoxes, devouring sense with a ravenous appetite.
A clock ticks backwards in the corner, its hands frozen at the hour of absurdity. An owl with a monocle perches atop a pile of dusty tomes, its gaze penetrating through layers of existential absurdity.