In the whispers of twilight, where shadows dance upon the brink,
the labyrinth unfolds, weaving tales within edges glimmering
with dew-kissed echoes. A journey not taken, yet walked
by specters of dusk, painting corridors with the
fragrance of forgotten words.
Do the walls listen? Yes, to the heartbeat of silence,
to the rustle of dreams drifting like autumn leaves
caught in a gentle sigh. Between the lines,
the spaces breathe—every pause a universe,
every step a story unspooling in the silence.
Whispered Secrets
Echoes of the Fading Light