In the silence before creation, the universe hummed its ancient tune, a melody played in reverse.

Date: 24-7-3037 - As it descends, the stars disappear, one by one, into the void of beginnings.
Will you remember their faces when they were whole?

Date: 07-11-2525 - Time folds upon itself, like origami made of dreams.
What secrets does the paper-thin reality hold, whispering dates of yore in paradoxical patterns?

Date: 12-09-4040 - Naught but echoes now, reverberating through the corridors of forgotten futures.
A question lingers: does existence have a soundtrack, or is it the silence that plays us the tune?

Future Prompt: Begin anew, rewrite the verses as the cosmos intends.
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