Mirage Dance

Upon the stained canvas of the eternal night
the ancient echoes whisper tales untold.

"Who walks there amidst the shadows?
A specter in faded velvet, a whisper lost in the breeze."

Footsteps that belong to another epoch resonate faintly,
each step marks the passage of a time unwatched,
untouched by the sun's covetous glare.

Delve deeper into the crypts, where stories mingle with dust and memory.

"Dancing like phantoms they follow the dirge,
a chorus without form, a melody without end."

Listen to the hallowed echo of voices long past,
anular harmonies harmonising in shades of despair.

As the mirage fades, so too does the memory,
leaving only the chill of the night's embrace.