twilight bridges whisper over silent valleys
the tapestry of a forgotten map unfolds, tracing lines of lost travelers
beneath the velvet sky, stars appear as ghostly footprints
in the chamber of winds, a door creaks open
a shadow breathes
and echoes call from unseen corridors
like strings gently plucked on an ancient lyre
buried beneath the dust of ages
the faint outline of memories
not etched, yet lingering—
as if the brush of a ghostly fingertip upon your arm
etched in mist, lingering just out of reach
a door swings on rusted hinges