Shadows weep in corners unlit, their tears begging for the dawn they shall never see. Here, in the labyrinthine silence, I dwell—an echo of whispers, remnants of voices suspended in time, forever yearning for release.
"Do you hear it?" she asked, her words unfurling like spectral wings in the dusky air.
"Hear what?" I replied, drifting closer, though gravity had no claim here. "It's but a memory, lingering like a lover's ghost."
"No," she insisted, her gaze piercing the veil of shadow. "There's a tale untold, waiting for ears unbound."
We floated in a space where time itself seemed to bend, where the cobwebs of forgotten lore spun tales of forgotten fractures. A singular line, inscribed upon the wall of this gothic sanctum, read: "In solitude, seek not the companion, but the companion's companion."