Drifting far beyond the light,
Where silence hums and stars burn white.
No echoes call, no tether holds,
A world of dark, both vast and cold.

Then a whisper, faint but near,
A melody the void can hear.
A thread of sound so weak, so thin,
Yet somehow pulls me back again.

A whistle in the dark, alone,
A fleeting tune the stars have known.
A hollow song, a gentle sigh,
That fades before it meets the sky.

Then a whisper, faint but near,
A melody the void can hear.
A thread of sound so weak, so thin,
Yet somehow pulls me back again.

A whistle in the dark, alone,
A fleeting tune the stars have known.
A hollow song, a gentle sigh,
That fades before it meets the sky.

No guiding light, no north, no ground,
Just empty waves with nothing bound.
Yet through the void, a note still sings,
A voice that rides on phantom wings.

A fragile tune, a breath of air,
It lingers soft but always there.
Not lost, not loud, yet never gone,
A ghost of sound that lingers on.

A whistle in the dark, alone,
A fleeting tune the stars have known.
A hollow song, a gentle sigh,
That fades before it meets the sky.

No hands to play, no lips to breathe,
Yet something sings where none can see.
A song that no one else will hear,
Yet still it plays, so soft, so clear.

Still it lingers, soft and thin,
A sound that fades, yet won’t give in.
No voice remains, no chords are played,
Yet somewhere far, a tune still sways.