Your footsteps echo upon the forgotten tile, each step a whisper swallowed by an abyss. The air sings with anticipation, but the melody languidly tousles your memories, letting them corrode like dreams left in the sun.
The walls narrate tales only spiders dare weave, and the ceiling reaches into inky skies unseen. There was a time when corridors like these wore gowns spun of moonbeams, yet now, they cling to twilight's gentle heckling.
Silent screams coat the relics in monotone velvet, where laughter ought to caress the corners. A door yawns open, spewing light unbeaten by words scraping their solitude upon hesitant tongue.
Yet beyond computation is the heart's cadence, skipping beat when touchcarve unread histories. Shadows intertwine, gesturing towards
Beyond exits lies a garden of sculptures anguishing silently, outlining every secret you once exchanged in breaths short of bloom. The stars hold council, a tribunal in countdown to meaning.
The taunt polishes the vacuum sheltering sweet rot, varnishing spines of books unread till souls succumb to light's arithmetic.