In the cavernous expanse beyond vision, amidst the wrap of obsidian winds, there resided an echo of unspeakable depth. It whispered secrets left unguarded, voices carved from the walls of forgotten dreams. You hear it now; a residue of a sonorous tremor. It intermingles with the amaranthine air, singing hymns of timeless wanderers, soulbound to shadows.
Every syllable inhaled, stitched together with the sinew of dread, weaves specters into the auditory tapestry that creates your surrounding space. Listen closer, and perhaps, you too might understand the language spoken by the stars that have bled into the night.