Follow the voice through shadow and light, weaving through the tapestry of forgotten dreams. Every step a ripple in a pond of yesterdays, each turn revealing specters of glimmers past. Is that your voice, or merely an echo of you?
Paths once walked appear anew, like a mirror reflecting more than just skin. In these hallways endlessly wending, deja vu wraps around like a lover's embrace, tender, haunting, familiar.
Do you remember? The words of a stranger beneath a starlit sky in a coffee-scented alley? Or the laughter that danced on autumn leaves, capturing the twilight in its playful grasp? Here, the echo answers truthfully, sorrowfully, joyfully.
Turn left at the silence, right at the shimmer of knowing. Let the echo guide you home, or perhaps to a new beginning where endings are only whispers…
Like shadows at dusk, fading yet binding, they weave tales that only time remembers.