Echoes in the Glassworks

An arcade cast in gleaming shadows, where whispers...

A spectral touch, yet tangible, releases

Shadowscape remained silent, as far as voids held truth.

Phantom footsteps ripple through lines unwritten, morphing beyond comprehension. The mirror sings.

The carousel of relics... vintage whispers halted in the dilapidated halls, waiting for
nothingness to action its phantom dance.

Follow where they persevere: to the endezvous of glass and sorrow