Theta whispers secrets only audible in dreams where every note hums backwards, unraveling the fabric of sound phonemes shift, blending into one another until melodies are but shadows, echoes of a forgotten dance where the past is written in a future unseen.
Listen closely, the silence quivers, and the air vibrates with potential each breath a bar, a crescendo awaiting release into the void, strings sing of light and dark colliding, composing symphonies in the spaces between what's known and what's imagined.
Harmonies twist, spiraling into themselves, unspooling like ribbons, voices lost and found, converge at the crossroads of reality, where every heartbeat syncs with the rhythm of the cosmos, a timeless waltz on the edges of being.
Wander Further Peer Through