Silver fragments of forgotten melody dance across the horizon, weaving tapestries of invisible sound.
In the whisper of ocean currents, secrets linger, dreams of songs yet to be sung.
Echoes of echoes call, an enigma hidden in the silence, waiting, waiting.
The wind carries notes of a nightingale, a symphony yearning for a stage, a spotlight, a hush—
Imagine the voice that could cradle such harmony, yet find solace only in the stars.
Listen, but do not hear the melody; embrace the silence, the void, the vibrancy of absence.