Somewhere in the boundless void, our dear stars have become the poets they never wanted to be. Each cluster sings a melody that echoes silently in mockery of the universal audience – us.
Would you listen to Orion's latest sonnet as it warbles across the Milky Way, few hear the sardonic beats, fewer still appreciate the irony?
“Here lies the song of Nebula N, a cacophony of unsung hymns,” the cosmic bard reads with a sigh, “but sadly, no one is awake to clap.”
Every moment an eclipse, every Supernova an opera! Who knew the cosmos preferred avant-garde renditions over melodies?
Yet in this stellar concert, you too are invited to the quiet encore where no one speaks, except perhaps the entities from the Andromeda Cabinet who might take your ticket.