In the hallway where whispers dwell,
dreams weave through the cracks of reason.
Echoes of footsteps, of voices—
a name repeated: Sarah, Sarah, Sarah...
Do the walls remember what they hear,
or are they but hollow shells,
collecting murmurs like dust,
until silence erases all?
Beyond the door, another whisper waits:
"This way, that way, the hallway leads,
twists and turns in labyrinthine embrace,
find yourself or lose once more."
Dive deeper into echoes:
Reflections |
Whispers