In the cosmic caverns, where light falters and breath stings—a siren call murmurs. Murmurs of muted galaxies and cryptic constellations forming and folding within the folds of ominous echoes. Whisper now, respond later.
Palimpsests of obliterated recollections inscribed deeply in galactic sands. We speak: scribbles of mad poets deciphering eternity amidst lost messengers of twilight rains.
Here lies ancient gravity wells, chronicling spectral tapestries, woven by unseen hands. Fragments of once-vibrant worlds overshadow a cosmic void, erasing the trace of their ephemeral dances. Fathomless whispers spiral inward, outward—a cosmic heartbeat in perpetual solitude.