In the halls of mirrored silence, a question arises:
Can the past inform the future when it is played in reverse?
Steps echo down corridors, where time dances backwards.
Paths intertwining, memories morphing, never standing still.
Deep inside the labyrinth, echoes of forgotten times whisper:
"The path not taken is a tune unsung."
Reverse a thought, and find a melody buried beneath layers of silence.
Echoes of the Soul