"Solitude, like water, carves paths through the heart of what remains, turning abandonment into whispers of renewal."
A corridor breathes in hues of blue,
Forgotten corners whisper tales once true.
Old machines linger in a mournful dance,
While water flows softly, lost in a trance.
Discarded memories rest on weary floors,
Furniture echoes their silent wars.
In stillness, transformation finds its grace,
As time weaves together this fractured space.
