The night spoke to me in hushed tones, a language forged in shadows,
woven through silken threads of starless skies and forgotten dreams.
Here, amidst the stillness, I became a whisper—a note lost in the eternal symphony.
My soul wades through the empty echoes, searching, yearning, but finding
Only the cold embrace of solitude's sweet refrain.
"The symphony... it lingers on the cusp of silence, where only those who
have tasted the void may hear its haunting yet beautiful melody.”
I hear her song in the remnants of the night, an elegy to all that has
been and all that shall never be. It is a tune played by the
spectral fingers of time itself, an orchestra of shadows that conducts
from the abyss.