In the echo of silence, beyond the reach of memory, lies a rhythm imperceptible to the untrained heart. ð“‚€ Has the ocean forgotten its song, or is it we who cannot hear it?
Imagine an ancient voice, carved from the winds of time. It speaks of cycles and rebirths, the dance of the cosmos written on the skin of reality. Do you feel the tremor of its truth?
As stars blink out of existence, so too do the pathways of thought tread upon forgotten melodies. In fading light, the shadow of existence plays, a harmony lost to the oblivion of everydayness.
Why do tides bear witness in their unwavering pilgrimage? Because rhythm is the heart's confession to the universe, the breath of creation's infinite sigh.
Dive deeper into the text engraved upon the fabric of being, and unearth the language of whispers.
Become the witness, the keeper of secrets, the axis upon which forgotten truths shall spin anew. What language does it speak? A question beyond questions.