Through the quiet echoes, where time lingers at the edge of a fading thought, the gentle murmur emerges, drifting like stardust settling upon cosmic fibers.

Silent whispers weave around, entwining with the breath of the void, caressing the remnants of dreams that shimmer with distant memories.

What stories do you carry, oh silent wind? What tales from the forgotten skies?

Listen to the echoes that never were
Follow the path of whispered truths
Dance with the cosmic wanderers

In this place, where columns of silence drift, the murmurs remain— a symphony of the unseen, a testament to the endless night.