Echoes of nocturnal whispers,
where forgotten melodies fuse with moonlit mist,
unspooling time's delicate skein into vast empires of sound,
each clink of star-crystals
refracting untold ballads sulking in the silent space-magpie dreams.

Has gravity ever felt so liberating?
The weight of unsung songs
loop the loop around distant quasars—
chase the sunset’s treble clef until it sinks below the wailing horizon.

In the hush, a jangled trumpet of the cosmos
calls forth the rhythm of spinning galaxies,
entwined in a waltz of stardust and shadow.

Quantum crickets chirp in patterns
resembling cold equations,
scribbled on the chalkboards of sleeping giants.

Enter the odyssey of woven dreams,
where silvered sea-foam stars crash over
the headlands of yesterday’s forgotten futures—
plunge into the twilight
of this sprawling overture.