Whispers in the corridors of thought, echoing in the void. Where does the music go when the ears refuse to listen? The silent screams become an orchestra, a cacophony of forgotten dreams. Notes slide away like shadows in moonlight, elusive, untouchable.
Imagine the echoes of a symphony lost to time, each note a fragment of memory, each pause a breath held in darkness. Listen closely, they say, but the silence is too loud, the screams too quiet.
The symphony plays on repeat in a mind untamed, a canvas smeared with color that cannot be seen. A melody without a source, its origin unknown, its end unending. The darkness hums its tune, a lullaby for the forgotten.