Whispers of forgotten dreams drift in the corridors of silent echoes, a melody unnamed, unwritten, unraveling threads of time that weave and unravel.
The hum of reality breaks, fractured mirrors reflecting shadows in a dance without a partner, a song without a voice, reverberations through an empty room, filled with ghosts of what could have been.
Hands stretch out to touch the intangible, the vibrations of existence whisper secrets in the calm echoes of forgotten moments, suspended in space, in time, in silence.
Listen closely and you'll hear it—a soft pirouette of a note escaping, merging with air, fading away, only to be born again.
The void, the noise, the song—unending symphony of silence, screaming in its stillness, resonating with the very fabric of being.