In the quiet folds of evening, where time drapes itself over the shoulders of your solitude, whispers of the cosmos seep through the ceilings of clouds. Rain falls like a melody, and you, a single note in the symphony of existence, await the curl of moonlight.
Gazing within the astral depths, it's curious how constellations mirror thoughts. Are the stars mapping destiny or merely tracing the echoes of your own dreams?
Sometimes, a name escapes your lips—immortal, yet delicate. The phantom footsteps of words linger where the heart once danced, whispering secrets only the wind knows.
The quiet hum of anticipation fills the air; beneath it lies the quirky tranquility of existence, a rhythm pulsing through stars and souls alike.