A whisper heard from shadows unlit by the sun,
Where specters weave through the tapestry of forgotten time.
What lies in the echo of decay, if not the remnants of yesterday’s whisper?
Silhouettes cast by invisible luminescence drift through silent halls,
Their presence known only in the soft sigh of exhalation against time's veil.
Journey to the Shimmering Center, where the light bends and weaves stories untold.
Listen closely to the rustling of leaves in forgotten gardens,
Where stories unwind and weave with the breath of twilight.
Within these boundaries, truths coalesce in echoes incomplete,
Never spoken, just remembered in the hollow of being.
Dance with a Shadow, embraced by the night, unmasked by dawn's revelation.
In the decay, find the genesis of silence,
Where the past speaks through the echoes of what might have been.
And in these echoes, discover the forgotten verses of an ancient song,
Scribed in the breath of moons lost to the ocean of time.
The harmony of decay resonates,
A melody in the ether, ever present, never fading.
Hear the Whisper, echoing through the corridors of the mind's intricate maze.