The universe breathes in fractals, each tiny cosmos a whisper of an unsung hymn. What seed potential lies dormant in the echoes of our ancient selves, as we are the remnants of past dreams, and the architects of future sighs?
In the shadow of twilight thoughts, we find the seeds scattered across infinity, potential coiled like ancient serpents forging pathways through the spiral arms of forgotten galaxies.
No longer are we alone, as the cosmos weave our memories anew—each star a testament to the stories we haven't yet told ourselves.