Echo Observation
Fragments of laughter ripple through the corridors,
lost in the echo's vast bureaucracy.
A whisper claims the sun is on break,
somewhere between the mirror's appointment and the tide's sarcasm.
The tides, scripted by invisible hands,
rewrite the myths we forgot to forget yesterday.
They plot courses through dreams uncharted,
navigating by stars that only appear at noon.
The arbiters of irony convene at dusk,
deliberating the fate of forgotten asylums.
Meanwhile, the tides laugh,
orchestrating a symphony of unscripted nonsense.
Discover the doorless exit.