The walls hold secrets stitched from shadows,
Echoes of yesterday's breath linger beneath the sighs of tomorrow.
Flickers of light in a canvas of dusk,
A tapestry woven with threads of twilight and forgotten dreams.
Listen to the echoes that never truly left.
A silhouette pauses, hesitant, in a dance of spectres,
Its form a mirror to the unseen, a shadow of a shadow.
The stars blink through the cracks,
Winking messages from the cosmos,
Encoded in the language of night.
Dream under the silent watch of wandering lights.