In the folds of the fabric I roam, stitched by threads of forgotten intent, my echo searching for a voice.
The stars, silent bystanders, watch my steps on the astral shore, each footfall a ripple in eternity's well.
Once I was a song, now a shadow written in cosmic ink, fading between epochs.
Do you hear the resonance? The harmonics of a universe untold, vibrating through the marrow of existence.