In the murmur's embrace, I strand, the melody dancing like phantoms in shadows' cradle, silent as a dream once lost. Notes - ah, who gives them form? A flutter, a sigh, in solitude's symphony, unfinished. They gather under moon's pale mask, a longing bark lost on waves, where silence conducts, nameless bars align their secrets elsewhere.

We are, vagabonds unchained beneath stars uncounted, musings of night's choir, ghostly tapestry unraveled. As linen draped o'er sound unformed, veils themselves forgotten, falling dust recalls every unheard chord.