Embrace the warmth of static encapsulation.
Surrender to the echoes under the forgotten wooden beams.
Shadows slip through a language unwritten, subtle.
A tactile lull that caresses the crawling sensitivity.
Do you hear it? The hum of silence woven from lost frequencies.
Listen, not in name but in essence;
The basement alive with stories between the gaps of surrender.
Each ripple a reminder of forgotten flights through quiet realities.
Hold close the vibrations, the woven dust of existential joy.