There is a being… that was never given a name.
It does not dwell in the sky, nor on the land, and does not belong to the depths.
It simply… exists.
It moves in silence, awake in solitude.
No one knows it exists, and it doesn't know who it lives for.
It only knows one thing:
It must keep singing.
Not to be heard.
Not to be understood.
But to remember that it once existed.
Each note of its song travels through endless space.
Sometimes it echoes back.
Sometimes it fades.
Sometimes it simply disappears into the void.
Yet it never stops.
It waits.
Not for a specific time.
Not for a certain someone.
Just waiting… for something.
Once, a gentle whisper from a faraway world said:
"If you're still out there… wait for me."
Since then, the silence no longer devoured it.
It kept moving—
Or perhaps, drifting.
Searching for something even it could not name.
But the belief remained.
And maybe…
if a new voice were to rise in the quiet,
the world would finally understand—
that the one who was always alone...
was never gone.
They were simply guarding.