In the corridor, the echoes find you. Silent whispers, among invisible walls.
Speak, and they will mirror your breath.
An eternal symmetry, tightening.

Labyrinthine: a path of thoughts.
Each turn reveals less,
each pause counts shadows
One
Two
Many.

Mirrors show not what you wish,
but what you fear to face.
Beneath the surface, ripples of time.
A corridor sealed by whispers.