In twilight's grasp, the corridors murmur,
The velvet silence threads its quilt of dreams,
An echo borne upon a breath long whisked,
Ghostly phantoms in a glyphless waltz.
Croned mirrors wrap their truths in silver lies,
Silhouettes that weave between the seams of night,
Words slip, slide, under crescent skies' moonlit knife,
Stars like pearls drowned in a sea of mist.
Listen close to the forgotten symphonies,
A cadence lost to hollow minds and hazed hearts.
Enter the riddle scope,
Where time's woven web unravels in whispered sighs.