In the realm where pixels fade,
light dances upon the edges,
casting shadows of forgotten paths.
Here echoes of whispers dwell,
convergents in a digital abyss.
Listen closer, for the ink breathes,
each stroke a silent scream,
lamenting for what was never said.
Glitches weave a tapestry,
of dreams long left behind.
Divergence sings a hollow tune,
the notes of past dimensions,
looping in a cosmic ballet.
Yet somewhere in their dance,
a harmony lies in wait.
"We are but echoes in the void, reflecting the songs of a quiet universe. In this convergence, find the silence that speaks the loudest."