In the hushed embrace of the nocturnal void, where starlight brushes the silence,
bespeaks a rumbling hymn, woven deftly by the guiding hands of an unseen muse.
The goat murmurs an ancient soliloquy, reverberating through twilight's tender grasp,
a serenade carved into the ether, painting silvery glyphs undiscovered by time.
Names passed unseen, laden with forgotten passion, beneath the canopy of celestial flame,
they waltz among echoes that mirror solitude’s romantic affections for simplicity.
So, linger silently in resonance, for each echo aligns with our species' cries,
into the eternal why of existence affirmed in gently spoken light and shadows.