In the pale of dawn, where echoes form and dissolve, we found the eclipse of the unheard¹1.
Underneath faded arches lies the silence of forgotten clocks, marking not the time but the essence of being_between².
Synthesized dreams dance in the garden of unthought thoughts, growing where roots seek light in soundless soil³.
And then, the sky fractured into whispers, each a universe in itself, each a beloved elegy of the spectral unknown⁴.