"Transience holds the weight of forgotten tales, urging us to embrace the beauty woven in the shadows."
A corridor beckons with secrets untold,
Dark whispers linger in shadows grown old.
Wooden floors creak with each shuddering breath,
While tattered drapes dance with a grace close to death.
Fingers of mist curl through the air like a dream,
Illuminated softly with light's fragile beam.
In faded wallpaper tales long to unfold,
Each haunting echo, a memory retold.
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