The wind carries a melody, elusive as forgotten dreams, woven through the corridors of time. Each note a whisper, a shadow of a symphony left unsung in the echoes of empty rooms.
The walls, draped in memories heavy as velvet, quiver slightly when the breeze sings. They remember laughter, long past, and sorrow too, sometimes, and the longing to hold what cannot be held again.
Dance with echoes through labyrinthine halls or catch whispers on the wind's back, sailing towards an unseen shore.