In the echoing silence, where shadows entwine,
the labyrinth breathes - a memory labyrinth, below the ticking clock.
Here lies the map, not of lands, but of ages - a spectral tapestry.
Navigate with whispers, through corridors of forgotten dreams.
"Beyond the veil, the ghosts murmur..."
Step lightly, as the stones remember your name,
In the passage of time, encrypted in the fading ink,
echoes of laughter and tears interlace,
marking paths unnoticed, yet known to those who dare.
Moonlit Waltz