What does it mean to echo, to repeat without intention, within these walls of winding asylum? Within these murmurs, I find reflections of the self I forget to remember. Each corridor, a thought unvoiced, winding into worlds unseen. Am I walking these paths, or are they walking me?
Perhaps it is mystical trust I hear, in moments paused. The echoes cradle my hesitations, allowing a dance of syllables unheard by conscious minds. Each whisper a reminder that reality too, is an echo of passions unknown.
Beyond the labyrinth, what is the seeker chooses? To bask in dualities, or dissolve them entirely, finding solace in echoes amidst forgotten truths. In dreams, the world's heart beats differently.
Perhaps in these dreams, I am finding eternity. For within the walls of echo, every heartbeat is a chance upon the infinite.