"Solitude breeds the vine of change, entangling what was once known into the fabric of the unknown."
In hollow halls where silence clings tight,
A figure looms beneath the waning light.
Its skeletal form wreathed in shadows' embrace,
Vines whisper secrets of a forgotten place.
Beneath the weight of time's heavy sigh,
An echo of dread lingers, a soft cry.
Unknown drops fall like memories that fray,
In the stillness, transformation finds its way.
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