In the quiet tapestry of shadowed night,
where whispers weave through the silent voids,
I found the echoes of static dreams,
murmuring secrets in celestial tongues.
"The silence speaks in languages of light and shadow,"
like radio static caught in a cosmic embrace,
drifting through endless corridors of time—
a symphony of unspoken words,
a melody of invisible threads.
We are the keepers of this whispered truth,
seekers of resonance in the great empty,
wandering through fields of stardust,
where every grain is a universe untold.