In the depths of the void, a poet's voice fractures against the edges of eternity. Whispers return from light years away, weaving stories that smoke and shimmer above unseen fires. "Listen to the stars," they always say, " for their paths painted in the night, carry echoes of this life, an ancient dance remembered and forgotten."
Journey by the light of phosphorescent dreams to the hidden gardens, where silence preaches secrets understood by no eyes yet listened to by ears not known. Here, beneath the crust of sky, our reflection intertwines with the tale of solitary serenades that float on winds with names yet to be spoken.
Within the Void - a tapestry woven from the night, where stories like echoing constellations breathe.