Echoes of forgotten dreams whisper in your ear, threading a tapestry of shadows...
As you wander through the corridors of reminiscence, each step echoes with the lingering scent of forgotten tales.
Here, déjà vu persists like a ghost in the mirror, trapped in the reflections of dim candlelight.
Once, you may have stood at the precipice of revelation, where the known met the unknown with a whisper of intrigue. The tapestry of time unwinds, spinning tales of silent echoes in the stone halls.
Not all silence is empty, for some are filled with the hushed crinkles of a page long turned, yet murmuring forever, in the recesses of your mind.
An old key rests, cold and sure in your palm, tethering itself to a door, again.
Perhaps, you have opened it before. The door awaits...
The moon weeps where her luminescent tears fall upon the forgotten crest of the night. And there lies a book, its pages ashen with stories untold. Its ink speaks in silent tongues.
As your thoughts unfurl like an eternal spiral, you realize; once again, you've been here before.