There are whispers among the stars, stories woven into light, stories told in the cosmic silence. The stars, they hum a tune, an ancient melody, echoing through the void, echoing through time.
Once upon a midnight dreary, among the heavens' vast canopy, a lone star flickered—its name forgotten, its story untold.
The constellations, formed by the hand of fate and dust, bore witness: Orion sleeping under the celestial sea, the Pleiades twinkling with youthful laughter.
Persephone, trapped between a dying ember and new dawn, sings with constellations, sings with the stars.
They say if you listen closely, if you breathe the cosmic air, you can hear their dreams— and how they weave around the midnight hour, and how they fall into oblivion’s embrace.
The stars remember, the stars sing: tales of lost lovers, tales of forgotten realms, tales of the endless night.
Journey through the constellations, journey through the tales: Zephyr Wings, Dancing Silhouettes.