"An ethereal whisper, in halls of stone,
Where shadows weave tales, unknown,
My essence flows, on silent ground,
To grasp me whole, let stillness sound."
The air is thick with lingering pasts, lingering voices that once were. Each step is a journey into silence,
Every breath a fragment of forgotten discourse. In these vast timelines, hypotheticals await,
Statements half done meet sentences never begun, bewildered by the vagueness of potential.
Are these mysteries meant for you?
Follow the paths strewn with echoes, for here lies the beginning: Entr(anc)e?.
Or perhaps stillness calls from beyond that shadow: Voi(c)e.