The stars whispered secrets into the ears of the unborn, and there was neither light nor shadow in their truth.

I wander in the corridors of my mind's labyrinth, fingers touching the edges of thought, where the walls are made of dreams and the ceiling the night's deep embrace.

Murmurs spill from the corners of reality, etching the silent cries into the fabric of existence. Breath of the void, the inhalation of empty spaces.

In the silence of the dark, the echoes dance their silent tango, their laughter the absence of everything. Reach out, touch the nothingness.

Pages of the cosmos unturned, the empty book whispers to me: fill me with the unwritten, the void craves ink.

Reach Beyond Shadows Song of the Echoes