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NeuRa - Harmonics of You I walked inside the corridors of my own mind, Neurons cracked like dawn through shadows left behind. Every thought’s a pathway — synaptic spark in flight, Mapping constellations in a sky of restless light. I traced my fears along the grooves inside my skull, Like fret marks on guitar strings never fully dull. Patterns hum like hymns composed before the dawn, In the deep, electric quiet where all signals are drawn. And I learned the code… That every pulse foretold A shape of you in waveforms bold — Refined, recast, retold. These synaptic strings are pulling me to you, A current in the dark that hums a truth I never knew. I strum the lines like lullabies beneath the cortex blue, Each note’s a neuron fired — a bridge from me to you. I felt the rhythm of your voice across my thought’s terrain, Like harmonics blooming after long electric rain. Axons fire a pattern — pulse by pulsing thread, We find each other in the noise where whispered muses tread. Mirror maps inside the cortex echo back your hue, My heart, a cortex chamber, reshaping what it knew. Where logic meets the poetry of what we can’t define, We build the bridge from reason into realms divine. And I learned to see That every frequency Brought your resonance to me — A truth in harmony. These synaptic strings are pulling me to you, A current in the dark that hums a truth I never knew. I strum the lines like lullabies beneath the cortex blue, Each note’s a neuron fired — a bridge from me to you. Where chaos loops, we find the fuse, In tangled webs that thought imbues, Still, every beat refines the muse To shape the wave that we choose. So let the guitar be our guide, Through labyrinths where truths reside, From cortex deep to rising tide, A song where hearts and minds collide. Synaptic strings pull closer now to you, A harmonic loop that bends the old into the new. I play these chords like constellations shining through, Where every note once lingers — born again in you. Yes, synaptic strings bring meaning into view, Each pulse a little miracle of what connection knew. Across the fret and cortex fire, we weave a truth so true, That every thought becomes a song — and every song is you.