The orchestra sleeps under a sheet of silent moonlight, the kind that dips its fingers into thoughts long left unsaid. Echoes dance through empty hallways—notes suspended between breaths, caught in time like shadows unwilling to part.
Beyond the borders of consciousness, where imaginations linger in the dark corners, there lies a symphony unheard. Unplayable, perhaps, composed only of stars’ gentle sighs and forgotten dreams woven into melodies of lightless dawns.
When does the music end—began by enchanters masked in twilight who thread chords through silence? Perpetual marvel—soliloquy woven into the fabric of existence, shimmering existentially. Dreams hum with mantra.
Whisper plots in corners, secret invitations flashing with glows unbeknownst. They bounce against the wall. Look closer and you might find what was never there, or let reverberations guide your path. Coalesce with stars’ whispers.
Pause amidst the chromatic abyss. Nomadic thought becomes dew—transient encased in continuing silence symphony surging. Reckless serenity spans dreams fleeting. Explorations in whispers echoed thereafter undefined paths linger.