An idea carved in the stone of eternity
whispers through the residues of existence.
What echoes remain from tales once told,
if not only shadows on the granite canvases
of forgotten ages?
As the tides retrace ancient footsteps,
we are none but echoes ourselves,
vibrations in the orbital dance.
Do subatomic entities dream
of oscillations they cannot control?
When silence devours the hymns of zeal,
find solace in the monochrome sketches
of possible realities,
painted using the bristles of
otherworldly forces unrecognized.