In the silence, I find the permanence of absence. The heart of the world beats, but only as a whisper among the galactic tides. How many suns have swum the vastness, cradling their planets in cosmic embrace? I am but a shore, waiting for waves that I never see.
Along the ebbing cosmos, where stars are born from the ashes of collisions, there is a song played softly by the void. A melody of creation and decay, reminding the sentient shards of its dance to ponder their own fragments.
Do these stars remember the paths they traced, their origins etched in the distant past? Or do they, too, forget with time, swallowed by the vacuum of fading memories?
Let the echoes speak their truth, woven through the fabric of silence, of a vacuum so profound it holds every secret ever whispered into the dark. Explore further...
In solitude, the heartache of galaxies falls soft as rain. It is gentle, yet pervasive, a reminder to listen not just to what is, but what could have been. Another tide awaits...