The labyrinth of mirrors unfolds within the modest confines of a remembered echo. Here lies a truth unspoken, discerned only through a haze of whispered distortions. Each reflection, an ephemeral shadow, contemplates its own silent oblivion.

Geometry, a playful muse, sketches intersections upon the heart's walls. Will you decrypt its language, secretive and masochistic? Or will you merely gaze and turn away, each glance more perplexed than the last? In this cadence, every number became unfamiliar, every line an unfamiliar territory of feelings.

These fractals within echo upon the surface of despair—a hymn of harmonious dissonance. If time reduces us to equations, what remains except to find the hidden refractions, masked as illusions?