In the stillness beyond the horizon, where the breath of stars whispers secrets untold, I find the echoes of time. They linger, beckoning from the edge of oblivion, as if to remind me of the melodies that once danced through the cosmos, now reduced to fading echoes.
Reflective notes ripple across the void, constructing a symphony of solitude. Each note, a memory; each silence, a prophecy. In this vast expanse, I reach for the sonorous truths that lie hidden beneath layers of temporal dust.
The meditation deepens, and the walls of reality soften. Here, at the precipice, I listen for the heartbeat of the universe, the sonnet of creation and decay. It sings a haunting lullaby, an ode to what was, what is, and what is yet to be.