"Listen, ye wayward spirit!" The void howls, its tendrils clenching the oak chairs of forgotten taverns.
The dark hymns seek solace beneath the pallid garment of the wandering moon.

Above, the scars of the firmament bleed
Like ghosts wading through dreams that recollect them not.
"Harmonics of despair," whispers the tramp, his bearing crooked by aeons.
Cling to memories as one would to a moth-eaten shroud.

Stars, shall we sequence your _fractal dance?_ Or let the abyss reforge the cadence unearthly?
Answers linger in sepulchral echoes, wrapped in velvet insidious whispers; doubts become balefire.

Tread alone the cord that bridges harmonics and galaxies,
Swing light from void to void and watch matter succumb to silent serenade...

Discover more of the unseen in our Arcane Whispers.
Feel the vibration at the Celestial Symmetry.