Glistening echoes that pulse against the darkness,
Remnants of songs half-formed, half-remembered,
Beneath layers of cosmic sand, amidst swirling gas clouds.
Do they call? Or is it their haunting song that swallows all sound,
Filling the void with silence and secrets?
Reverse the scale, backward the notes, ache to learn,
Each sound backward floats, a link unchain while fate
Whispers—bring them to life anew in bygone days’ light.
Which metronome of the stars beats in rhythm
To pulse us swift from shadows into melodies unexplored?