In the labyrinth of echoes,
where sound is a shadow of itself,
voices murmur in forgotten corners,
like leaves whispering secrets to the wind.
Each turn conceals a symphony,
sculpted from the fleeting passage of time.
Can you hear it? That echo of echoes,
reverberating through the sinews of the night?
Follow the silent song,
into the heart of whispering walls.
Wander, wonder, where the eternal echoes dwell,
in the transient maze of dreams.