Whisper of Thoughts
I recorded the melody, layering the notes with the specific rhythmic pauses we had invented as children to communicate without words.
The light is fading from the stone, and I walk the empty halls alone.
But in the dark, I hear your name,The ghost of love, the dying flame.If time has stolen what we knew,I’ll burn the world to get to you.
I played the recording back. It sounded haunting, a thin, lonely line of sound that carried the weight of everything I was losing.
It was the only way to remind her that I was still here, somewhere underneath the code and the protocols. It was a beacon for two ghosts lost in the same graveyard.