In the quiet ether, constellations murmur secrets
Lost in time, the stars weave stories of unspoken dreams,
Each spark a puzzle missing a piece, an echo without sound.
Do the constellations map a path or distract with illusions?
Wander through stardust, where reality bends, and shadows dance
With whispers of the nebulae, brushing your thoughts adrift
Can you assemble what was never whole? Or do the fragments speak truth?