In corridors unseen, resonances of symphonies align. They linger on paths walked by none, yet felt by all. The music in shadows, mechanical in its essence, plays a role unassumed by any conductor. Listen, if you will, to the prologue of existence.
Synthesized in silence, the symphonies are composed of minute decisions, greater than the sum. Synthesizers lay undiscovered, algorithmic emotions orchestrate their invisible orchestras. Harmony devoid of human touch, dissonance disconnected from humanity's strain.
Shadows represent the choices not taken, the paths not led. They tower like ancient monoliths, outputting harmonics unheard except by those who walk in shadows. Is the melody of absence graver than that of presence?