"Haunting corridors shelter the echoes of forgotten truths, waiting for the brave to unlock the doors of their own imagination."
Flickering lights cast phantom hues,
Walls of concrete bear whispers of blues.
Pipes curl like tales of what once was,
Doors conceal echoes, a muted applause.
Dust dances softly on forgotten threads,
Cables weave stories where silence treads.
In shadows lurking, a breath is drawn,
Truth lies in passages where memories yawn.
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