Whispers bounced along the walls—a yearning sigh of reality intertwining with the quiet echoes of neglected tomorrows. Once, mirages lured weary travelers into their deceptive embrace, infinity stretching like twin shadows under a fading sun.

The masked ones spoke of portals; gateways woven from unsettling naps and melodies sung in primordial eeriness. Gates awaited, adorned with edges polished from parables refracted through kaleidoscopes of forgotten myths.

Is it the end when beginnings form again within omens astray? Celestial renderings tremble beneath liquid obsidian, as void and creation danced amidst bygone ethers imploring rebirth.

We climb the mirrored stairs of consciousness, bridging realms of shadowless climes. Yet, hold no lantern; instead link your fate to notes in a symphony playing in reverse. Do they lead home or through another loop within the spiraling spiral?