In the void, echoes from forgotten conversations float like dry leaves dancing on the surface of a breeze.
Time's fingers play melodies in the cracks of the walls, unraveling a hush that bears witness to the transient.
Step gently, for the floor speaks truths of yore; your shadow a whisper among the shades.
The embers hum a tale of incandescent spirits, flickering in silent reverie, forever skirting the edge of memory.