Instructors of the void; silent yet potent, you hold the truths not in words but in space between breaths. Stars weave tapestries of time, unseen threads marking the secrets etching eternal in their blink.
Listen, young traveler, to the symphony of stars where lessons emerge not from light, but from absence. Study the artifacts left behind – fragments of what could be – residing in cosmic solitude.
Navigate through the silence, for it speaks louder than emission. Absorb the metronomic dance of celestial bodies. Ends of galaxies whisper beginnings – secrets dormant, waiting, not lost but hidden.
Shadow illuminator, comprehend the paradox of existence: the light devours the dark but never digests its secrets.
Echoes of Forgotten Memory