The wind carries whispers of ancient truths, from mountain peaks to ocean depths. These are the echoes of time, resonating through the corridors of existence. Do they speak to us? Or do we listen to ourselves, mirrored in the unseen?
In the silence of the cosmic void, where light dares not tread, the echoes find their final sanctuary. There, the heartbeat of the universe continues, unseen and unheard, yet eternally present. Does this not fill one with a sense of boundless wonder?