He does whisper a phrase into the night. The silence of the evening rebounds an answer. It speaks clearly in the form of a challenge, a calling of a kindred spirit. Is it another lonely being, a phantom of the dead, or does the voice simply come from within? Are the noises and words we hear only the echoes of our own reflection?
He screams and is startled at producing a yell without words and sound. The impact of this realization is enough to stop his heart. The loss of the ability to raise his voice has broken his will. A sob escapes… and with it he whispers a prayer. The sound of his voice greets him… comforts him back to life.
He smiles with relief, closes his eyes, and returns to his endless sleep hoping to remember the words with the coming sun.