In the hollowed halls where footsteps danced with silence,
a voice like the rustle of autumn leaves murmured secrets.
"We are the shadows, we are the whispers, we are the echo of what once was..."
Beyond the shadow, where light dares not linger,
a path unfolds, paved with forgotten dreams.
Look closely, and you might see the remnants of light,
tracing patterns upon the walls, like the touch of a memory.