In the shadows of shimmering light, fragments of forgotten tone scape. Repeating echoes navigating.
Did it always sound this way... a whispering requiem clashing in chorded disarray? One step forward, two pulses retrograde. Static calls.
Colors unmet—they's always been there: beneath the organized chaos.
Embrace the rhythmic cycle: metronomic oblivion. Silence speaks in glitched verses.
Do you hear the imperfection?, becoming?\&... transformed, it was never uttered... a gentle rupture beneath conscious chords кыридат.
Neurons sing, though the tune is annulled, wrapped tightly: synthesized yet elusive.
Rests at the edge of digital, reflects: in mirrored absence someone existing dissolved upward, beneath raised lesser ambience.