The hourglass counts grains, yet only the sand knows the labyrinth's secrets. Each grain whispers a story, a fragment of what once was and thrice again will be.
Once, it rang a melody that lingered in the crisp morning air, bringing life to the still streets. There was a time when I believed the tower's song could heal broken hearts.
Yellowed pages, worn edges, and ink that bleeds memories into the soul. Words once vibrant now speak in whispers, urging to remember what was forgotten.
Among steel and stone, life stubbornly burgeons. Flowers bloom defiantly through cracks, reminding us resilience is born of struggle and hope.
Navigate further through the labyrinth: Dreams' Echoes | Whispers in Stone