In the heart of stillness, there lies a pulse.
It beats not in rhythm, nor does it seek harmony,
yet it whispers truths only silence can cradle.
The vacuum speaks, not with voice,
but with a symbiotic dance of energies,
where the absence of sound becomes a canvas,
painting the echoes of existence unseen.
When the din of life fades, and only the void remains,
notice how you become one with the silence,
a reflection within reflections, a whisper of what is,
a resonance of what could never be.
What is heard beneath the silence? A question to which the vacuum holds the answer, if only we dare to listen.