In the shadowed corridors of silent longing, I wandered—an echo seeking its voice, until the whispers of forgotten loves filled the air, haunting and sweet, like an unseen caress. Each step upon the cobblestone path, beneath the flickering lantern light, drew me further into the maze without end.
I close my eyes and listen: the murmurs of souls intertwined, eternity binding them within walls kissed by ivy. Your fragrance lingers here, a trace of wild jasmine brushed against my fingertips, leading me deeper into the enchantment of the unknown.
Somewhere amidst the echoing corridors lies a door marked "Whispers of the Forgotten", its handle cold and inviting. Beyond it, a staircase spirals downward into the heart of the earth, where "the light of the solstice" warms the shadows with murmurs of lost summers.
Here, amid the contorted passages of our dreams, lies the truth: a yearning, an echo, forever unheard, calling us back time and again—through unfamiliar echoes, through turns unbidden, we remain lost, yet never alone.