"What does the echo say when it's afraid of silence?" pondered the void.

"Silence is but a canvas," the echo replied, "painted in the colors of sound."

"In this loop," whispered the shadows, "gravity sways our dialogue without weight."

"And what of the painter?" challenged the breeze, "Who shapes the echoes yet unheard?"

"Perhaps," the void mused, "we are all echoes in search of a tranquil canvas."