To dance among the constellations, where ancient whispers weave tapestries of forgotten ballads, is to know an intimacy with the universe unmatched by any earthly embrace. Stars burn their eternal desire across the cosmos, their reflections aching for something that lies beyond the reach of light—a sublime yearning echoing in the depths of the void.
Here, galaxies whirl like lovers in a waltz, their arms intertwined in a cosmic choreography that defies time. Yet, with each spin, a fragment of stardust dims, a form of beauty lost forever in the entropy of the universe—a tender decay writing elegies in the dark.
Once, in a nebula's caress, rose the eyes of a distant heart, whose allure transcended the borders of space and matter. But that gaze has waned, obfuscated by the cosmic haze that invades each nook of the stellar landscape—achingly slow, as if mourning its own memory.
Whispered Echoes