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In the spectral pauses of night's sonorous breath,
shadows drift like specters, clad in faded veils of consciousness.
Whispers weaving through limbs,
caustic laughter mingles with the song of unseen creatures.
Between the ancient bark and moon's tender glow,
a chorus of echoes wails.
Voices of those who once walked,
their stories caught in static's relentless grasp.
Listen. Beneath the leaves that fell decades past,
the soil breathes tales of sorrow and solace.
The trees, stoic sentinels, bear witness still,
to the conversations muted by time yet vibrant in dark's embrace.
Press on deeper
Beneath the static, a truth often denied,
that silence, in its haunting clarity, speaks loudest.
Between every crackle, between every aerial hum,
exists the echo of a whisper, of a wish, of a soul's cry.
Continue listening