In the center of all things, there lies a silent whispering void. It calls not with words, but with the gentle pull of inevitability. We, wandering shadows, dance along its edge, seeking answers in our own reflections, seeking peace within the storm of silence.
The stars above mock and muse, their light never touching the depths. Yet, here, in this center, the yearning for home feels complete. Not in the stars, but in the infinite dark that swallows them whole.
Echoes of the Past