The walls hum softly, like stories told to stars.
Where do shadows tiptoe when the sun sings?
"Follow the flicker," whispers the old wind.
But say not a word, for the corridor knows.
Nodes of light bounce as they dance—oh, how they flicker!
Seek them, and more secrets might just unfurl.
Perhaps you'll find:
Who knows the names of the clouds above?
The corridor might tell, if you listen close.
Maybe you’ll hear a tale of the flicker itself—a friend in the hallway.