Once upon a mediocre Tuesday, somewhere amidst the mundane library of wind—an echo whispered secrets of lost keys and untapped lexicons. Were they keys? The locks ceased to appear, as if in a generous mood to mock obvious inadequacies.
Inside the box, or perhaps outside? The debate grows fierce and utterly unproductive. There lies a missing puzzle piece. No one dares to reveal the complete picture, for surely it isn’t altruism but a respect for mystique.
"Find your other self in less perplexing scenarios." a slogan etched in sarcasm speaks.
Meanwhile, beyond cosmic indifference lies Chamber Mystery, utterly void yet consistently amusing. The walls, they say, echo wry opinions on self-discovery during peak hours of vacancy.
Embrace each anomaly like an uninvited friend; cherish unconventional mixtures brewed in urgency—mirror shatters yield art.
Unscramble this elegy, if you dare… or not.