In the twilight, where memories fade and echoes whisper, the labyrinth unfolds, a tapestry of choices unchosen. Each path diverges, yet converges within, like streams lost in an ocean of time.
I walk, not seeking, but wandering through corridors of my own making. Shadows dance, flickering reminders of time's gentle embrace, or its cruel laughter?
Here lies a path, worn yet untouched, leading nowhere, or perhaps everywhere. The signs speak in riddles, their voices soft, urging reflection rather than revelation.
Have you ever felt the phantom touch of destiny as you tread upon sand that shifts beneath your soul? The maze remembers each step, each breath, weaving stories into the fabric of its endlessness.