In the spaces between heartbeat and cosmos, whispers left by ancient gravity linger, untraced, and runnels of light embrace shadows in an infinite dance.

The silence is a star's echo, an arm's length from oblivion. Each blink of celestial bodies is a syllable in a language unwritten, waiting for the touch of a cosmic poet.

Stars speak in sighs, their conversations a series of breaths across the abyss. The void becomes a canvas for stories unwritten yet understood by the soul.

Here lies the silence we inherit from supernovas, the blank parchment of old gods, seeking to inscribe the fading energy of creation in the silence that swells and hums.