Like whispers trapped in glass, the silence speaks of melody unformed. Untamed rhythms ebb and flow like stars unspooled on a tangled canvas. Beneath the echoes, in the margins, a symphony scribbles itself, unseen.
Doodles in the dusk—tangled chords etched into shadow, forming hymns of light and fleeting shadows. The unseen audience claps, unnoticed, as crescendos dissolve into softly falling night.