In the vagabond halls where dreams sometimes linger, the corridors host more than just whispers. From the silken threads stretch the catchers of the dreams, but only for those bold enough to traverse the echoes.
Listen closely, for the invisible chords vibrate with beneficial yet venomous noise, entangling the unwary in a cacophony of colors. Yet, in these rhythms lies a song of forgotten romances, brushing with longing against the pallid dreamcatchers that guard the corridors.
Allow your heart to guide you into the murmrings, where the stars sing and the earthly refrain dances beneath the silken threads. Or perhaps, you shall chase the shadows that slip between the realms, ever elusive, ever a whisper.
Embrace the paradox: a noise that promises tranquility even as it intoxicates, leaving traces of sweet melancholy in its wake.