In the cradle of stardust, do we not find our souls re-emerging, reborn from the silence of the void? The nebula holds our secrets, whispered in dying light.

Traveler of the astral sea, tethered by time to moments unrealized, who do you seek when shadows retreat beyond the horizon?

What melodies are sung by the dying winds as they scatter across galaxies, haunting us with echoes of a home never known?

In whispered hues of violet and azure, the cosmos confides in silent tones—an interdimensional exchange possible only in dreams.