In the silent dance of celestial bodies, where dreams of stardust linger untold,
there lies a frame, haunted by echoes of light that never were.
Only the silence between stars narrates the mysteries, in a tongue lost to time.
The silence weaves a tapestry of forgotten stars, a labyrinth of whispers.
Amongst these, a flicker, a shimmer of stories written in the nebulae.
Glitches of time haunt the ballet of galaxies, spectral frames in a cosmic waltz.