Stand beside the mirror in the heart of the night.
Listen deeply, can you hear them? The whispers reaching through
a veiled curtain only the wisest of souls discern.
The Truth wants to talk; are you prepared to listen?
The fabric of your reflection shimmers, twisting, wailing,
beguiling. There's an argument it makes, a persuasion that runs
deeper than the surface silver. Are you more than what you see? The endless answer looping is hollow, whispers,
yet fills every space like dusk embracing the sepulcher of self.
Endless promises made by day unravel
under the cover of moon's quiet watch.
Each echo is a confessional trapped within glass, yearning to free you
from the chains of your daylight belief.
Signposts glow only at night to guide
those courageous enough to question
the seams of reality—and illusions sewn tight.
Return to the Hallway and trace steps carefully.
Each echo a reply, a retort waiting in shadows.
Corridor of Wisdom beckons you to its sanctuary.