The constant drift towards disorder births unseen melodies.
Configuration of quarks seemingly non-existent, yet vibrating their precipitate.
Nonsensical combinations of strings, tangling cosmic algorithms.
Every lack of coherence, an octave rebounding against the void.
In the expanse of entropy, haunted by fractals of starlight, I query:
"Where do thoughts conflate with the ripples of time?"
Transmute Horizons | Dissonance In Space | The Harmonics of Nothingness