Upon the glassy corridors, dreams weave their gilded nests: every reflection a note repeated ad infinitum, the spectrum of thoughts plunging into depths. In whispers that shatter against the surface, these corridors twist endlessly, bending light into corners where mysteries loiter eternally.
The mirror sings a fragmented aria, crystal clear yet bound in repetitious enchantments, and echoes beckoning the wayward soul into their silken embrace. This maze is woven from strands of time, flickering with the luminescence of stars fallen upon shadowed waters.
Do you dare to touch the gleaming walls? Perhaps you will find: A never-ending dance of mirrors, A glinting ghost in the periphery, The infinite recall of forgotten paths.