Born of borrowed sky, falling into the abyss of sound
Each whisper a vibration, rippling the silence
I am hollow, yet full—a paradox of existence
Observing realms from silver-veined heights
Echoes stretch, bending reality, imprinting thought
Reflect

Touching faces blurred by frames of canvas smeared with life
Acoustics of arrival pressing quietly upon earth’s longing soul
Hollow? No, filled with the essence of touch, the gravity of sound
I navigate the sea of memory, supple and serene
The aura of connection anticipated, anticipated, always
Journey