In the staggering depths of silence, a heartbeat echoes—a primordial undulation, carving thoughts into the ether. The ancient poets spoke of this rhythm, of tides both lunar and cosmic, whispering through aeons. Amongst the aligned stars, lies the truth molded in grids—a skeletal song of time itself.
What lessons do forgotten rhythms teach? Perhaps, a letter never sent, a message etched into stones that speak in frequencies misunderstood. An undulating flow of wisdom waiting to flow through the synapses of a xanthic dream.
This is the wave of time, let it wash over you...