In the unraveling silence,
a cosmic whisper trails,
The Sunken Dreams held onto my glowing embers,
yet here I am left adrift, eternal.
Each scintilla of being I shine,
births spectres of oldime legends untold,
ringing hollow the corridors of space.
Are the remnants of my light ships,
or jails for thought?
With initial fires extinguished,
I ponder if silence truly breathes
or just apes a divine pas de deux.
As I cycle through the abyss,
the journey coalesces—
moons reflect darkly,
washed by the phantom dance
of a beach, thinly brushed with stars.
Eternal Night Waltz
Do you hear them? Triple echoes that convert perception,
subsuming one world's fantasy into another's tragedy,
tangible tetherless tales told by wandering light.
Melody of the Spheres