Echoes of the Unseen

As shadows dance upon the wall,
the library of whispers calls.
Speak to me, old phantom breath,
as I walk the loop, defying death.

These words were not meant for you,
yet they find themselves in your path,
a trail of silken smoke,
leading through pages of forgotten truths.

In the corridor beside the sea,
where moonlight meets the sandy shores,
a voice lingers, half-formed,
asking the questions never spoken.

Do you hear it too?
The rhythm of echoing thought?
The dreamscape awaits the seeker
in the spaces between breaths.

Follow the whispers, if you dare,
through twilight's embrace
to the end of the unseen path.