Whispers of the Unseen

In the spectral hush beneath the sprawling columns, remnants of another life linger, woven into shadows that seem to breathe. They lean, watchful and ancient, as if more alive than their creators who have long been forgotten.

Enter, if you dare, the profound darkness where the spirit stumbles. The world shifts—every moment in the twilight staircase is an echo, the fading footsteps whisper across endless corridors lined with stone that dreams seem to fade within.

1. Flickering pause trails behind every word spoken by those who long to know the unknown, reflected in the hollow gaze of the columns.
2. They speak in murmurs, these sentinels, tales handed by a zephyr that dances through crumbling arches.
3. Listen carefully, oh wanderer, and you may hear the unvoiced secret that the held eternally by this petrified audience.

The reflection you seek is not in water, nor in glass. It is etched in the chiseled sighs of marble ghosts who subsist on the memory of life breathed here once upon a time.

Behind the Columns
Stilled Echoes