In the quiet of spectral strings, where lyres weep their quantum tunes,
the shadows dance on whispered winds — an elegy for the lost moon.
Fragments of a time unknown, in helix spirals fading,
compose a dirge of dissonant hymns upon the angels' braids.
Fingers trace the ghostly chords, a melody of spectral lore,
through ivy carpets of damp despair, where echoes nevermore.
Beneath the pallid, lurking mist, in frosted gardens of the bleared,
the quantum lyres weep and writhe, singing sorrows never cleared.
The void's symphony, a fractured grace, in shimmering, distant haze,
as twilight reigns o'er the monarch's shade, in this kingdom of decay.
Pluck the strings of entropy, witness the serenades of fate,
where every note a universe, and every silence an eternal wake.