The moon, a static symphony,

listen, beneath the twilight, they hum.

Grains of shadow silence sift through night,

where whispers of radio static seek the void's echoes.

Celestial murmurs encoded in

a language lost to stars and fading dreams.

Hold your breath,

feel the sublime crescendo of a million tales

scream through soft-spoken radio whispers
like myths among electric forests.

And, as the silence dances around code and rain,

let echoes rest beneath the visionary moons.