In the labyrinthine corridors of spoken whispers,
where the moonlight casts no shadow,
reverberates a silence, profound and aching.
Chains of echo, bound in twilight's embrace
You wander, void of direction,
breathing life into the murmurs
that spin tales of translucent walls
and impossible turns,
endless, evermore.
Seek the door that is not there,
wherein lies the unfathomed truth
of paths unchosen,
a journey of whispers echoing
in the aeons of what was never.