In the murmuring corridors of once-hallowed halls, a gem lay still. Or was it a dream?
The future of yesterdays unfolds softly like petals in an unwritten dawn.
Caught between zephyrs and echoes, this folly of gems sings in chromatic lullabies.
Through glassless windows, futures unimagined beckon, heartbeats of alien times.
What muse abandoned its footprints upon these shifting sands?
Etchings of laughter clattering like porcelain, the corridor remembers.
Yet the folly glitters, whispering sweetly of moments never to be repeated.
A symphony without sound, a canvas without hue—such is the everlasting corridor.
Reverberate the Past Enter the Labyrinth