Whispers of the unformed, they reach beyond the veil, tracing shadows on the essence of twilight.
Beneath every murmur lies a gravity well of emotion, waiting to collapse stars into the silence of soliloquies.
Secret paths wander through dreams in mirk and shadow, where echoes become your only friends.
If you dare to listen, the voids awake with stories unscripted, unraveling the weft of destinies.
Such is the gravity. Such is the pull of unseen hands, guiding the sewn cosmos.