In the flickering shadows of twilight dreams,
where whispers gather like dew on an unseen web,
the echoes of thoughts long forgotten drift,
murmurs of a world untouched by day.
You stand in the hollow chamber of what could be,
surrounded by the resonance of unvoiced questions,
their presence a silent serenade in this dreamscape,
a haunting melody that only a soul can hear.
Somewhere, a door creaks open, revealing paths untaken,
where every step stirs the silence into symphonies,
orchestrated by shadows that dance at the periphery,
inviting you further into the embrace of night.