In the dark, where stars grow unheard,
a faint murmur travels through the void.
"Before space was a concept," it whispers,
"time twined around existence, knitting realities in forgotten looms."
Do not look at the line, but listen to its story—
it spirals into untold narratives, binding worlds.
"And we carved echoes into whispers," says the elder thread,
"for truth was woven into the very fabric of our dreams."
There were moments when nothing was linear—
spirals embraced sacred stillness.
"Once upon a time in the space between thoughts," hums the cosmic string,
"a web of eternity breathed a sigh unparalleled."