Repeating echoes in the void, fragments of whispers, fragments of time, stars adrift, linked by silence adhering to the infinite... Cycles within cycles, an azure abyss singing celestial hymns, a loop without cessation...

Open pathways, hidden - surfaced in dream's twilight. Whispers conjured, echo filtered soundscapes. Listen close, murmurs blend with the astral light; fog-draped nocturne calls.

Mechanical stars drifting; ghosts of rhythm haunting... shadows of light press upon unbidden depths. Uniform, yet chaotic, a harmony unraveling like ether upon infinite waves.

Abyssal dreams, the cartographer's lament - a lingering horizon calls: Maps devoid of edges, unraveling the silent oaths where celestial and abyssal converge.

Broken, yet alive; the loop sings its song - again and again, the cycle bereft of beginnings, yet full in ends. Tides do not whisper, but invoke... celestial conduits reswept in dim repose.