Space stretches infinite, morphs itself into echoes, echoes that do not find their end.
Are these whispers or mere shadows pretending to speak?
Notice the touch, the invisible caress of something that once was, now not even a thought but a feeling.
Jump through the paths unseen

Rumbles in silence, where the echoes play tag.
We find rooms inside ourselves where nobody fit, too big, too small, made of air and fleeting light.
Do they resonate? Do they haunt?
You perceive a shimmer that does not exist in the tangible world.
Listen to the eclipse murmur