Dear time-traveler, within these walls carved from the absence, a symphony of paradoxes plays. Follow, if you dare, the footsteps of wonder.
To see what others don't, close your eyes and drink the morning dew brewed from calling stars. Repeat the rhyme of silent tongues thrice.
Whisper of the echoes:
"Do you hear the singing footsteps of forgotten woods? Listen close, for they tell tales of paths uncrossed."
Gaze upon your reflection, but not in water, rather in the space between.
Tip your hat to the pebble suspended in mid-air, for it's only a trick of gravity refusing to dance to the music.
When the moonlight weeps, shape your shadow into something it isn't. Become the object of your own perception's illusion, and you may find new realms.
Listen to the wind, it murmurs:
"Time is a stitcher, threading dreams through the needle of reality."
Dare you step through these further portals: