There exists a ballroom, poised irretrievably in stillness. Its once vibrant laughter now merely a shadow cast by memory on the effulgent walls. Time trickles through openings like gales through crescent moonlit crusts, leaving only ripples of reflective serenity.
Sculpted delights linger in quiet contemplation, a suspension of elegance in that ancient space. Each step prompts reminders of those who once pondered their ascents across ivory ledges lined with echoes of elusive spectres. Each footfall—ghostly and intangible—offers an invitation to trails both known and untraveled. In the sepulcher of crystal chandeliers, stories murmur.