In the recess of an endless night, there existed a quiet unspeakable truth. Each star held a secret,
wrapped in whispers, dancing within the dreams of those who dared to listen. Among these celestial
echoes, a voice emerged—a gentle murmur, intertwining with the stardust, begging to be heard.
The universe spoke not in words, but in the vivid tapestry of colors and thoughts woven into an
inner chorus. Emerging from the nebulous haze, I heard fragments of forgotten lullabies, sung by
constellations weaving their ephemeral tales across the skyscape...
Imaginary travels trace invisible paths through the cosmos, yearning for resonance in my waking heart.
I wander in reverie, tracing spirals of glowing light and listening intently—are their stories
written about cosmic dust? The constellations
grimace, they see my oblivion.
The echoes ripple, and time stretches languidly...
Midnight has a way of revealing glow in the shadows, silhouettes vast against the unfurling constellation canvas; dreams wrapped in warmth, touched softly by celestial glow of moments only ever shared in the tender realm of night.
Touch the sky and hear them speak