In the shadowed reverberation, quietly loud, exists a silence clad in colors.
These haunting notes of unplayed strings, strumming absently through yawning depths, belong to the something - indefinable yet possessing shape.
Symbiotic echoes upon symbiotic whispers – parabolas conversing with ellipses, a dialogue interrupted only by pause; perpetually unfinished sentences, drowned not by themselves but an ocean sculpted by winds unseen.
Do the voids speak?
Their consonance finds form only in absence, shaping skylines that dissolve into cosmic loops.