Lost Chords

Within the repertoire of existence, one hears whispers of a guitar long since silenced.

Cacophonous fragments penetrate like shards of glass through murky waters: The note once held in fingers now relapsed into silence.

Missing movements and orchestras turned into a ghostly audience, beckon the decay of swell—a testimony of auditory sympathy.

Step forward, seeker of resonance, into the shadows of unplayed symphonies laden with dust:

• Trace the trajectory of an accidental A minor. It spins right beyond the plucking.
• Listen closely for the seventh, whose lament echoes of intersection yet fastens itself to none.
• Cue the absence: Can you discern the pulse in the shifting fabric of time—its rhythm fragmenting along the edges of consciousness?

Join the dialogue of melodies forgotten, yet cataloged in the buried libraries of dreams.