The stars whispered secrets, their luminous fingers painting paths of memory upon the ethereal canvas. In the vastness, clocks are but illusions, mirrors of the heart's yearning, ticking in harmony with the pulse of the universe.
Cosmic dust settles gently over dreams, veiling the edges of reality. What flows around you, does it ever truly belong to you, or is it a borrowed breath of celestial giant?
Follow the Whisper Traverse the Echo