In the grand ballroom of the universe, the stars waltz in a choreography as sporadic as the motions of a drunken deity. Join the dance, they said, but the rhythm is hidden behind cosmic noise.
Meanwhile, on Earth, the clocks tick away their monotonous beat, mocking the celestial orchestra from their dusty shelves. Once, they were forgotten, now they tick just tock.
The moon, a fickle mistress, waxes and wanes with the discretion of a bored monarch. Her silent decree is nothing more than a whisper lost in the void, yet it commands oceans and hearts alike.
Stars, those ancient luminaries, blink in Morse code, their messages as relevant as yesterday's news. Read between the twinkles to understand patterns that elude human logic and mock it simultaneously.