The sound of his voice had lost all hint of the man from whom it came.

Mary caught her breath, the tiny sound almost lost to the hissing of the rain.

It is an exhausted, lost sound that wrenches at him.

Every so often, though, he lifted a radio to his lips and spoke, the sound lost in the wind.

The phone rang, the sound almost lost amidst the noise of preparations.

The sound as it landed was lost, masked over by the storm.

The clatter persisted until the sound lost itself in remote silence.

He cries out, that tiny sound lost between his mouth and Able.

I think synthesized sound has kind of lost its charm.

The recorded sound loses focus on some disks, but never enough to interfere with listening.