"... do you hear them? the notes trapped in the rafters..."

Once, this place resonated with a symphony that danced on the edge of dreams. Now, only echoes remain, murmurs of a time when melodies wove stories in the air.

"... the violin's cry, a ghost's lament in the night..."

Have you ever noticed how the silence here hums? It's as if the walls remember each chord, each crescendo, holding on to them like secrets.

"... footsteps of composers long gone, shuffling notes like a deck of cards..."

Sometimes, when the moon is just right, I think I see shadows conducting unseen orchestras. They look for the lost tempo, you know?

"... whispers of jazz improvisations, spontaneous and wild..."

There's a door at the back, slightly ajar, leading to another dimension where music never ceased. I wonder where it goes.

Wander Further
The Silent Chambers