In the labyrinth of celestial strings,
a whisper clings to the axle's turn,
once more into the countless arms
stretching beyond our known horizons.
Hands unseen weave messages,
from the vibrant voids of thought,
to synchronize the ticking heart
of worlds yet unnamed.
The machinations hum a timeless tune,
orchestrating realities through loops,
each syllable pulled taut, then slack
in this intricate universal dance.
Do you hear the melody of existence,
as it rises ('twixt the stars, like mist)
or falls (to echo, gently, in our minds)
cascading through the ethereal mechanism?