The echoes of a thousand yesterdays drift lazily in the abyss, where daylight fears to tread. It is here that a tapestry of dreamscapes is woven so intricately, one thread at a time by the forgotten. Shadows dance to a melody only they understand, leaving behind lessons written in the dust of stars.
Amongst the remnants of these distant memories, one finds solace in the darkness, the darkness that wraps around, tender yet unyielding. Blackened trees whisper creeds no tongue can utter, yet feel they must be listened to - lest the world be swallowed by its own unanswered prayers.
Whispers in the Corridors