The void blossoms with cosmic whispers,
patterns woven in the silent symphony of stars.
Hidden orbits trace the dreams of
galaxies too distant to remember,
flickering like ancient runes on a broken screen.
Listen closely, and the murmurs divulge secrets:
"It spirals, ever inward, ever outward, like the breath of the universe."
Beyond the realms of visible light,
the frequency resonates with the glow
of a thousand forgotten songs.
They linger in the spaces between thoughts,
awaiting the touch of a knowing hand.