The castle's corridors intone soft whispers, echoes carved in marble and shadow.
Haunted by glances that never rest, they loop like the turning of a key in a rusty lock.
Whispers in the walls, remembered tales of forgotten souls.
They repeat, repeat, repeat, like a wound forever opened, forever closing.
In the endless hall of reflections, mirrors shatter upon unseen faces,
fragments of laughter, a symphony of cries.
The ghastly refrain clings to the air like a mist, winding through unseen paths,
mournful yet hauntingly beautiful, like a melody yearning for release.
The specter of truth resides in the eye of every whispered glance,
keeping time with a heart that beats but cannot be found.
Shadows lengthen, shadows deepen, shadows become...
a rhythm, a loop, an echo. Forever and ever, the path unfolds.