In the vacuum, the echoes resound. Milky whispers, lost amongst the cluttered thought of starlight. Perhaps, we are but whispers, vibrations in the dark tapestry woven by ancient hands.
Do you remember the day when we first tasted the universe? The expanse extends like fingers, searching through the void—each twinkle a thought unspoken, a verse unembraced.
The future is a mere whisper heard through the blackness. Dreams collide amidst the nebulas of longing, fading in and out, like a fleeting memory chased by shadows of the past.
As we breathe in this celestial air, we exhale the stories untold. Reflections spin like galaxies destined to fade, illuminating every moment that passes in fear of absence.
Dare to Hold the Silence Step into the Echoes Gather the Shards