In the echoing corridors of suspended time, the shadows speak in hushed tones.
“Do you remember the way the trees sang?”
“Whisper to the stars; they are guardians of forgotten promises.”
The walls have ears, though they wear them coyly beneath veils of mist.
“In dreams, reality is a suggestion, a mere flicker of the eyes.”
“He walks through the rain, counting the invisible threads of fate.”
“Some labyrinths are made of whispers, others of light.”
“I once saw a clock with no hands, it ticked backwards.”
“A dance of shadows upon the waters, the moon joins their quiet ballet.”
The echoes dim and fade, only to be replaced by new songs of the unseen.
Enter the mirrored maze