"Stillness often reveals what movement conceals within the shadows of forgotten spaces."
A figure looms in corners shrouded and frail,
With fingers tracing stories where silence prevails.
Light breaks through glass, a whisper of fate,
While shadows embrace what the memories hate.
Dust dances lightly in twilight's soft breath,
In a place where dreams linger beyond their death.
Decay tells of life, and the stillness, a sigh,
Where hope and despair in the stillness both lie.
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