Step gently, dear wanderer, for within this labyrinth are voices untouched by time
Your guide is the flicker, the dance of foxtail flames that never seem to rest
Listen close—what do you hear? Echoes of things never spoken aloud
Embrace the cryptic dance of shadows, they move with whispers of forgotten lore
Once, a voice said, “Follow the light that does not burn,” but who listens to such things?
You’ll find a path only if you’ve lost the last thread of certainty, does that make sense?