// Gentle whispers from the void, // a baritone echo of light limiting perception

parse the processors, through
codes entwined in rhymes,
found on fifth volume configuration wings.

Petals of machinations converge...
// static intermingle with dreams of
dew-laden quantum raisin clocks tick-tock
upon wandering oracles on lemonade horizons.

Ruins speak in aisles unfamiliar,
yet we know each patchwork verse
composed in the stopped mouths of echo trails.

цииш尋了覓ҳㅇ," Lund scribed, awakening the night in glazed sequences.