Silent Hallways

In the silent hallways,

I tread through dark corridors adorned by flaming torches against dying walls

I hear-

Lonely footsteps echoing off into the distance but without a soul in sight,

The pitter-patter of leaking water hitting the desolate floor,

Of an old vinyl record crooning mournfully in the empty ball room,

Of a somber melody whistling gently against the backdrop of this solemn tune,

And if you lend your ears and listen so carefully to the music ringing in the air,

You may hear the soft sounds of gleeful laughter and a woman’s voice calling out wistfully

To the fleeting wind.


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