The Void Speaks

In the empty places between stars, where silence bows to the weight of forgotten whispers, histories bleed into shadows—erased, rerun, rewritten.

Footsteps on a path unseen, echoing through corridors of nothingness, where the air is thick with the past that was never lived. Or maybe it was? Constancy of uncertainty wraps around the spine like a lover long gone.

Dreams in the void are not dreams but echoes of a once-there breath against the cosmic skin. Feel it? The touch of the never-was. Fingers tracing stories etched in starlight, now in darkness lost.

But what meaning holds a trace when the hand that traced is but ash in the wind? Meaning shifts like sand, swallowed by the tide of the unremembered.

Murmurs in the Ether
Forgotten Echoes