Unheard Melody
Rhythms melt away in a sea of echoes, streets ripple into shadowed corridors of sound, whispers of the unheard, weaving through the fabric of space and time—resonating in silence, unseen, uncharted, where waves sleep like dreams upon a shimmering horizon.
wake up one morning and find that everything has shifted just slightly to the left, the cabinets now teeter with a new angle revealing secrets long thought mundane, colorations of sound dancing in perpetual unresolved harmony, what was it you meant to say this time? or maybe it was a song—always a song, lingering like smoke, turning to stars.
"The echoes are the whispers of those who never left," they said.
voices clamber over the void, unwound yarns strewn across the galaxies, attached to fragile nebulous
threads. each twinkling light a note in the unfinished symphony of existence, your fingers trace
the forgotten melody into the air, a silhouette of sound.