Crisp footfalls trace their way
Along the endless, gentle halls.
Echo echo echo...
Once there was a thought,
Like a whisper in the wind.
A little bird flying
Through a boundless hall,
Its song repeating,
Again and again.
The walls remember,
Soft echoes of laughter,
And gentle sighs of dreams,
Floating like bubbles,
Waiting for a breeze.
A winding path, a winding mind,
With doors that open,
And close with a whisper.
What lies inside,
Only the echoes know.