The stars spill like silver wine,
pooling on the ruins of old echoes.
In the cosmic dance, time remains
a silent observer, a forgotten dreamer.
Dance on the edge of the void,
where the puddles reflect the remnants of night's song.
Listen closely, the echoes whisper,
tales of stars and forgotten dreams.
Wander here, where echoes meet shadows,
or venture there, to gaze upon cosmic embraces.