Across the yawning expanse of nebulous night, she could hear the galaxies whisper. Each spiral arm of stardust etching tales of forgotten worlds into the very fabric of her thoughts. Beneath the olivine skies, she pondered — was existence merely a dance of celestial whims?
The cosmos had always been a sanctuary of mysteries, untouched by time's merciless dialogue. In its breadth, she found fragments of herself, woven into the silence as stars coalesced into constellations that charted the unfathomable depths of their solitude.
An orb of light flickered near the eventide, a transient specter of the heavens. She reached out to it, her fingertips tracing the lines of the cosmos as if to map the forgotten secrets hidden beneath the veil of time. It pulsed with a rhythm that resonated within, harmonizing with the unspoken language of void and existence.
Whisper to the Stars