Wisps of sound rise and melt in the air, The high and low stresses, the articulatory stretches; Linger, vanish, manifest, proliferate – digest.
A humming note strokes the whims of a heart, Through tapestries of tingling blade of tongue, It slides into existence and existence it wears till it obliterates.
Wisps of sound rise and melt in the air, Like Chinese ring daggers they curl into the abode of your consciousness again.
A mellifluous phrase carries the calm of Ravi as it glides through the hollows of ears, Now in your memory, now forgotten, Now revived, now devised, Now it journeys towards the ripples of your utterance, And now it fiddles with your own conscience.
A wisp of sound falls over the skyline of a tongue It transforms into a soulful voice, And arbitrarily makes sense!
Calculating since beginning of time. Whom could be a culprit that feeds such immaculate numerical energy into our hearts. It seems Hero Zeroes know of the power but One thing is obvious - Those with the power of One will inevitably crash. It's a magnetic source, ignited by pure attractions by nature of pi circumference.... more or less. It's Eleven.