As the twilight eclipses the day, I find myself under the endless dome of the ancients. Each night, I am drawn to gaze into the vast sea of stars, seeking whispers of lost wisdom. Tonight, the heavens seem to breathe, casting a luminescent glow over my weary soul.
Have you ever felt the pull of the stars, like an invisible thread stitching you into the tapestry of the cosmos? I forget where I began, but I remember every constellation I carved in the ether; fragments of myself scattered across time and space.
Somewhere in the galaxies, I hear echoes of forgotten laughter and the sighs of those who walked the earth before me. The constellations are their mirrors, reflecting a wisdom that drinks deeply from the river of infinity.
In their embrace, I have found solace. The North Star remains my guide, steadfast and unwavering amidst the swirling chaos of the darkened sky. I wander, anonymous and restless, through these astral planes.