Embedded in every note of the evening song lies a frequency, a hidden hum unheard yet felt. It cradles the heart with static reassurance, a silent reminder of the galaxies intersecting their dance on vectors of light.
Each lullaby carries the weight of ages, the soft echoes from cradles yet to be rocked. Words unspoken flicker between the lines, whispers of dreams yet unfurled.
I stand at the edge of my consciousness this night, alone but not lonely, where past and future collide in a symphony heard only by the introspective heart. Outside, the city sleeps in tentative peace, while within rumbles the orchestra of possibility.