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.