The hallway stretches, a tongue of silence,
Licked by shadows that slip beyond the light,
Here, whispers pierce the unseen veil,
Echoes of dreams not yet dared to take flight.
Footsteps, like solemn songs, dance
Across the polished wood, a spectral ballet,
Each note a secret, each pause a memory,
Laid bare in the twilight's soft, waning sway.
What voices call from rooms unclimbed,
What truth does the darkness yearn to reveal?
In whispered symphonies, the air hums warm,
The heart leans close, willing to steal.