Like ships in fog — the melody weaves in the dissonance, echoes breaking upon the shore of dreams, cascading into silence. A transmission sent from the realm of quiet space, the unseen truths wear the attire of shadows.
"Sing to me," the deep murmur whispers. "Tell me your name, the one you don’t remember, the one tucked away in the folds of twilight."
Cells and circuits perform an unending requiem, tuned not to the pitch of this world, but to the forgotten places, a landscape of unheard whispers.
Among these disembodied chords, the moon hums a very different song — its vibrations echo in an unfamiliar rhythm, possibly echoing across galaxies, caressed by cosmic winds.