In the silence beneath the stars,
where time folds into untold stories,
we measure echoes with
the breath of invisible galaxies.
"Remember, the stars remember," she whispered, tracing patterns in the void.
Stand amidst the fragments,
let them speak in echoes of moonlight,
each syllable a drop in the cosmic ocean,
a ripple in the fabric unspun.
The wind weaves tales of forgotten realms,
a tapestry of whispers—echoes calculating the unseen.
Listen, with ears untrained to sound,
with hearts attuned to the whispered promise of stars.