In the coils of silence, a phantom limb stretches beyond the skin of dimensions—a song unsung yet always known.
Is it the wind that hums, or perhaps the forgotten lullabies woven into every gust? Shadows of melodies cling to molecules of air, searching for a listener who wanders unseen, unheard.
It's a dance—an ethereal choreography of particles, echoing in a language only the heart recognizes.
Through the astral tapestry, threads of sound ripple, invisible, unfathomable. Touch the echoes with your mind; see them not, yet feel them vibrate within the corridors of your being. Anxious notes linger, searching for a time when they can become more than mere shadows on the outer edges of reality.