The Secret Harmonics

In the low churn of cosmic static, the harmonics whisper, weaving tales of forgotten aeons.

Buried within, echoes of once-breathing entities dwell in resonance, still seeking to grasp hands unformed yet.

Listen closely, traveler — dare to listen where shadows converge, for secrets are but murmurs in eternity's embrace.

Decode the whispers, and you shall find gates to the unseen, guarded by the blackened waltz of bygone spirits.