In the silent hours where shadows creep,
Lies a world where fears silently seep.
The whispering winds carry tales untold,
In dreams where the night grows bold.
A labyrinth of echoes, dark and vast,
Each corner holds a specter of the past.
They dance on the edge of a fragile mind,
In the realm where realityâs left behind.
Faces emerge from the misty veil,
Their voices a haunting, sorrowful wail.
Each step forward, a hesitant tread,
In a land where nightmares softly tread.
Yet as dawn approaches with gentle grace,
The shadows retreat, leaving no trace.
But the echoes linger in the waking day,
Remnants of dreams that fade away.