Beyond the event horizon of thought, a horizon dances like an astral mirage. In the echoing silence of voids untouched, stars speak in tongues of flame, weaving the fabric of now into a tapestry of then.
Crystalline waters reflect liquid night, where celestial fishes swim in nowhere, seeking the rhythm of cosmic lullabies, drifting serenely in eternal waltz.
Here lies the edge of human dreams; mirrored in the opalescent light, an ode to the forgotten minds encasing the universe’s whispers.
The winds of space carry tales: temporal gusts brushing against the skin of infinity, inscribing verses onto the skin of galaxies that sparkle like cosmic ink across a boundless page.