The hours thrall, suspended in the inky stretch of astral embrace, where silence scoffs at temporal binds.
Listen. A whisper sails through the chasms, a melody forgotten by the stars themselves.
In cosmic folds, parables breathe—shadows knitting tales as the night spins her enduring silk.
A tremor in the void, a flicker of the eternal sight—a veil shifts, revealing realms unspoken.
Count the shifts, speak their names, linger at the edges where the infinite murmurs.