Imagine a realm where whispers become landscapes,
tracing your silhouette upon the expanse of stars.
Time, an ancient tapestry, woven in loops of desire and dust.
Entities arise only to fade — ashes in the cosmic breeze.
A flicker in the endless ellipse,
revealing chains forged in solitude, held each by the knowing void.
Do you bridge the hollowness,
or wander the corridors of nameless echoes?
Hear the echoes
<Digital Waveforms>
They surf upon currents whimsical — a lifeline extending beyond,
unlooping portals that speak softly the languages of yesterday.
Between transmissions, they linger; radiowaves caressing
the tender flesh of oblivion.
Listen Close