The Labyrinth Cannot Speak

Within this shifting void, silhouettes are cast
by whispers woven into an unseen fabric of light.
Feel the corridor breathe around you;
every edge curdles softly, haloed by delicate radiance.
You stand at an impossible doorway,
relinquishing intention to stray
intersections left unattended.

The stone slabs remember touch from centuries past,
yet they hold no imprint of fingers.
Listen—the echo bends not around walls but through thought,
through fragility illumination
resonating like moonlight’s embrace,
staving off shadows of waking.

Are you yielded to the route forgot the pathway whispers beneath a ceaseless passage,
murmured thresholds beckoning silently
within horizons meant unplumbed, yet drawn ever nearer,
like etchings upon an eternal monolith.