The static whispers in the corners of my mind,
ocean of echoes drowning in muted frequencies,
where every tick of a clock
becomes a journey into the labyrinth of silence.

I count the shadows that dance
across the walls of forgotten rooms,
and realize they are mere
reflections of thoughts I feared to name.

Symptoms of peace, perhaps,
dressed in the noise of old radios,
as if to say, "Listen here,
this is where you uncover yourself."

Do you hear it too,
the melody of elements still,
singing in frequencies
that language seems to dissolve?