In the silence of corridors untouched, wisdom murmurs.
Do footsteps, once warded with promise, leave traces, or merely shadows?
When the soul wanders, does it wander seeking,
or does the wonder itself lead the way?
The past, a tapestry torn between reality and imagined solace.
Be the whisper, become one with the echo;they are the ghosts of what we might become.
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